v.i.V" 






LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



I — i- — — ^rsi 

f UNITED STATES OP AMERICA.! 






HEAVEN IN SONG: 



COMPRISING THE 



GEMS OF ALL AGES 



THE BETTER LAND. 



BY 



HENRY C. FISH, D.D., 

AUTHOR OF "HISTORY AND REPOSITORY OF PULPIT ELOQUENCE," "HANDBOOK OF 
REVIVALS," "THE HOUR FOR ACTION," " PRIMITIVE PIETY REVIVED," ETC. 



LUh 






NEW YORK: j 
SHELDON & CO., PUBLISHERS. 

1874. 







; ^ 



1W® 

ft 




Q 



4 




V 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 

SHELDON & CO., 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 







^il 




& 




r^/5 VOLUME 



LOVINGLY INSCRIBED 



NJiss DELIA J, FISIJ 



To whose essential aid it owes its preparation. 







Jl 



jfe. 





The rabbins report that when Joseph gathered much corn 
in Egypt, he threw the chaff into the Nile, that, flowing to 
the neighboring cities and nations more remote, they might 
know what was laid up for them. So God hath thrown some 
husks to us in this world, that, tasting the sweetness thereof, 
we might aspire to his bounty above. — Spencer. 







«jg% 



PREFACE 



I 



T is Coleridge who says, that 

In some hours of solemn jubilee 
The massy gates of Paradise are thrown 
Wide open, and forth come in fragments wild, 
Sweet echoes of unearthly melodies, 
And odors snatched from beds of amaranth. 

The purpose of this volume is to gather up and pre- 
sent some of these echoes of unearthly melodies, poured 
forth in Christian song. 

As a Lyra Ccelestis, embracing the master-pieces and 
choicest lyrics upon Heaven, selected from all the hymno- 
logical sources, home and foreign, modern and ancient, 
it is the most extensive collection that has hitherto been 
attempted. 

We must view it as a cause for gratitude that so many 
of the hymnists have chosen this as their theme. Every 
reader of these pages will be impressed with the variety 








VI PREFACE. 

and richness of their productions. Heaven, indeed, in the 
words of Bishop Hall, hath many tongues to talk of it. 

As a book for the parlor-table and the shelf of the 
library ; for the closet and the sick-room ; for hours of 
literary enjoyment and of devotional musing; for the use 
of young disciples and of experienced saints, it is hoped 
that " Heaven in Song" will prove a favorite gift. 

May it please the Blessed One, whose presence is the 
glory of Heaven, to accept the offering, and make it an 
inspiration and a joy to many in the house of their pil- 
grimage. 

H. C. F. 

Newark, N. J., November, 1873. 






smL- 




TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



PART FIRST. 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



Everlasting Light, 

Onward into Light, 

My native land, 

My country's loveliness, 

Heaven of heavens, 

Here and There, 

The dwelling-place above, 

The goodly land, 

Yon bright wonder-land, 

How can we know the way ? 

None in Heaven but Thee, 

Sonnet to Heavenly beauty, 

No night shall be in Heaven, 

No graves are there, 

Attractions of Heaven. 

Allurements of Heaven, 

Reunion, 

Know as we are known, 

The meeting place, 

The land of which I dream, 

More blest than Eden, 

His throne and temple, 

To be there, 

The other world, 

Heaven near, 



AUTHOR. PAGE. 

William Cowper. i 

R. C. Trench. 2 

From the Spanish. 3 

From the Latin. 3 

Edmund Spenser. 4 

J. P. Lange. 6 

Bishop Mant. 8 

Mrs. Anne Steele. 9 

From Schiller. ii 

From Schiller. 12 

Sir Robert Grant. 13 

Du Bellay. 14 

Thomas Raffles. 15 

R. A. Rhees. 16 
18 

E..H. BlCKERSTETH. 20 

Bishop Mant. 20 

Bishop Ken. 21 

HORATIUS BONAR. 21 

HORATIUS BONAR. 24 

Bishop Coxe. 25 

a. muhlenburgh. 27 

Elizabeth Mills. 28 

Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 29 

Mrs. Mary J. Robinson. 31 







& 



Vlll 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



The voiceful land. 

Heaven's joys, 

The incorruptible, 

There shall be no more sea, 

Life's questions, 

Talk to me of Heaven, 

The witness of earth to Heaven, 

Down below and up above, 

Soon and forever, 

The gates of the celestial city. 

Eternitas, Eternitas, 

Heaven at last. 

At home, 

I shall be satisfied, 

The eternal smile, 

Just beyond. 

Light and love, 

The land of peace, 

Dies Ilia, Dies Vitae, 

Paradise in a dream, 

The one glad day, 

The mourner's heaven, 

The land beyond the sea, 

The shore of eternity, 

The last day and eternal life, 

The everlasting rest, 

How glorious must the mansion be, 

The better land, 

Look up ye saints, 

The second day of creation, 

My guess of Heaven, 

The seen and the unseen, 

Martyr's song, 

"When nightly through the sky, 

What shall we be ? 

Athanatos, 

The exile's vision, 

Things unseen and unheard, 

Harps in Heaven, 





AUTHOR I 


PAGE. 


C. H. A. BULKLEY. 


32 


Thomas a'Kempis. 


34 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


36 


Marianne Farningham. 


37 


Henry Alford. 


38 


Mrs. Southey. 


40 


Thomas H. Gill. 


42 


Dublin University Magazine. 


43 


J. S. Monsell. 


46 




48 


From the Latin. 


49 




50 


H. B. Collins. 


51 


From the Congregationalist. 


52 


H. Kirk White. 


54 




55 


Alice Cary. 


56 


Marianne Farningham. 


56 


Hymn of the I2th Century. 


58 


Christina G. Rossetti. 


59 


F. D. Huntington. 


61 


Thomas H. Gill, 


63 


F. W. Faber. 


64 


F. W. Faber. 


66 


Paul Gerhardt. 


68 


Thomas H. Gill. 


72 


Reginald Heber. 


73 


Mrs. Felicia Hemans. 


74 


Henry W. Baker. 


75 


T. Whytehead. 


76 


Thomas Ken. 


79 


Horatius Bonar. 


81 


Christina G. Rossetti. 


85 


From the Spanish. 


88 


Anonymous. 


9i 


H. Kirk White. 


92 


Paul Gerhardt. 


94 


Giles Fletcher. 


98 


E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 


100 




&. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



^W 



IX 



A home in Heaven, 
Invitations from Heaven. 
Minister's welcome to Heaven, 
My place in Heaven, 
No stranger in Heaven, 
Through a glass darkly, 
Recognition in Heaven, 
Reminders of Heaven, 
Rest in Heaven, 
Scorning Heaven, 
Meditation of Heaven, 
Ransomed spirits calling us to 

Heaven, 
Hearts united, 
Our abiding city, 
Hastening home, 
The distant shore, 
Heaven and earth contrasted, 
The spotless robe, 
The promised mansions, 
The debt of Heaven to earth, 
Joyful haste, / 
Home, sweet Home, 
Faith's choice, 
Land ahead. 
Heaven's dawn, 
The shadowless, 
Heavenly Canaan, 
Hope of our hearts, 
The welcome day, 
I thither lift my eyes, 
Paradise restored, 
Arise, fly up, and run, 
Wreck of the universe, 
We seek the promised soil, 
O for the pearly gates, 
There is a fold whence none can 

stray, 
Name ever dear to me, 



AUTHOR. 


PAGE. 


William Hunter. 


IOI 




102 


E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 


103 


John Mason. 


104 


E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 


105 


Matthew Prior. 


106 


Anonymous. 


106 


Anonymous. 


108 


William B. Tappan. • 


109 


John Milton. 


110 


Isaac Watts. 


no 


Edwin H. Nevin. 


III 


Albert Laighton. 


112 


John Kelly. 


113 


John Burton. 


114 


Fraser's Magazine. 


115 


Thomas Moore. 


116 


Thomas Moore. 


117 


Richard Cumberland. 


118 


Thomas H. Gill. 


119 


William Hunter. 


121 


Sir John Denham. 


122 


Isaac Watts. 


123 




124 


Thomas Gibbons. 


125 


G. Robins. 


126 


Isaac Watt s. 


127 


Sir Edward Denny. 


128 


Isaac Watts. 


I29 


Benjamin Beddome. 


I30 


Charles Wesley. 


131 


Isaac Watts. 


132 


Mather Byles. 


133 


Anna L. Barbauld. 


134 


C. F. Alexander. 


135 


Bishop East. 


I36 


Latin hymn of 8th Century. 


137 







$!m 




TABLE OF CONTENTS. 





AUTHOR. 


PAGH 


The other side, 


Anonymous. 


138 


Children of the Kingdom, 


Anne Shepherd. 


139 


What then ? 


Anonymous. 


140 


The favored of their Judge, 


Edward Young. 


141 


New Heavens and new earth, 


J. Walther. 


141 


Awake, the night is flying, 


From the German. 


143 


The great city of God, 


T. Buchanan Read. 


145 


The transparent throne, 


Jeremy Taylor. 


147 


The beautiful city, Zion the free, 




149 


Joyful words, we meet again, 


From the German. 


150 


An echo of Heaven, 


George Herbert. 


151 


Songs of the blessed, 


Hymns Ancient and Mod. 


152 


The land of promise, 


Thomas Olivers. 


153 


There is no more sea, 


Fysh. 


156 


Where the blind see, 


Jessie Glenn. 


158 


Where the deaf hear, 


James Montgomery. 


159 


Ascend beloved to the joy, 


Horatius Bonar. 


160 


The unknown country, 


Dinah M. Mulock Craik. 


162 


Open is the starry' hall, , 


From the Latin. 


163 



P&ET SECOND. 



THE HEAVENLY STATE. 



The holy church invisible, 

The seat of glory, 

In bridal beauty drest, 

Forever with the Lord, 

Paradise must fairer be, 

Know ye the land, 

That shall be for thee and me, 

High in yonder realms of light, 

Winter braming — summer flaming, 

Jerusalem the golden, 

Jerusalem, thy glorious walls, 

O mother dear, Jerusalem, 

The gates of gold, 



Lyra Apostolica. 167 

Charles Drummond. 168 

J. S. B. Monsell. 169 

James Montgomery. 171 

From the German. 173 

From the German. 174 

Horatius Bonar. 175 

Thomas Raffles. 177 

Latin Hymn. 179 

Gerald Massey. 180 
John Matthew Meyfart. 182 

David Dickson. 185 

Gerard Moultrie. 104 







.ife: 




TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



The celestial country, 

The better country, 

Oh, Paradise must show more fair, 

Oh what is this splendor? 

Pleasant are Thy courts above, 

On yonder holy ground, 

The centre of my bliss, 

In Jesus' sight, 

Thy gates of glistening pearl unfold, 

Where is the land he saw ? 

Light's abode, celestial Salem. 

When I think what shall befall, 

In the Fount of life perennial, 

My thirsty soul's desire, 

Will it no pleasure be ? 

Now the pilgrim sad and weary, 

The evening watch, 

Bathed in unfallen sunlight, 

I know the walls are jasper, 

Nevermore and evermore, 

When we reach a quiet dwelling, 

Bright sun, thou dost blessedly shine, 

There is a river pure and bright, 

Glorious things of thee are spoken, 

A beautiful land, by the spoiler 

untrod. 
Around them, bright with endless 

spring, 
There is a place of sacred rest, 
I know not where those mansions 

lie. 
Her streets with burnished gold are 

paved, 
All about Him sheddeth glorious 

light, 
In seeing Him they find repose, 
Lord of the worlds above, 
Give me the lowest place, 
The vision of John, 



AUTHOR. 

Bernard of Clugny. 
Bernard of Clugny. 
Friedrick Ruckert. 
F. W. Faber. 
Henry Francis Lyte. 
Horatius Bonar. 
Samuel Crossman. 
George H. Houghton. 
John Henry Hopkins. 
C. L. Ford. 

Peter Gonella. 
Peter Damiani. 
Peter Damiani. 
From the German. 
A. Knapp. 
Henry Vaughan. 
Horatius Bonar. 
Helen L. Parmlee. 
Dublin University Magazine 
From the Changed Cross. 
Thomas H. Gill. 
James Montgomery. 
John Newton. 



XI 

*AGE. 

200 
214 
221 

223 
225 
226 
228 
230 
23I 
233 
235 
236 

239 
243 
249 
251 
254 
255 
257 
. 258 
260 
262' 
264 
265 

266 




Augustine. 


268 


Robert Turnbull. 


268 


5 


269 


Francis Quarles. 


270 


Edmund Spenser. 


271 


Dante. 


272 


Isaac Watts. 


273 


Christina G. Rossetti. 


274 


Crammond Kennedy. 


275 





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Xll 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 




PART THIRD. 

INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 



A little child shall lead them, 

Stars of glory, lights of Heaven, 

Why do we call them lost ? 

Suffer them to come to me, 

Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ? 

Still thou art mine own, 

Where I shall with my Jesus be, 

Woman, why weepest thou? 

Equal unto the angels. 

Angels bright, all glistening glorious, 

What means yon blaze on high? 

Heaven grows dearer day by day, 

Thou wilt never grow old, 

Who are these before God's throne? 

Who would recall her? 

She is in Heaven ! How sweet the 

phrase, 
Find room, dear Lord, for me, 
Over the river they beckon me, 
They are gathering homeward one 

by one, 
Open ye the gates, for the battle hath 

ended, 
Go lay their little heads on that 

heart, 
I wait till the hinges turn for me, 
Whence came that multitude ? 
Go not to Heaven alone, 
We ask not what the joy shall be, 
A vision of the doom, 
Bright glory resting on Thy brow. 
See a long race Thy courts adorn, 
When your flesh dissolves to dust, 
Oh, with what congratulations. 



AUTHOR. 


PAGE. 


May Riley Smith. 


281 


Augustine. 


283 


Church of England Mag. 


284 


Lyra Anglicana. 


285 


Francis Quarles. 


287 


Paul Gerhardt. 


288 


J. Franck. 


292 


Harriet Beecher Stowe. 


293 




294 


Edmund Spenser. 


295 


Henry Hart Milman. 


296 


Anonymous. 


299 


Mrs. Howarth. 


299 


From the Ger. of Schenck. 


301 


Ray Palmer. 


303 


Charlotte Elliott. 


304 


Thomas H. Gill. 


305 


Nancy W. Priest. 


306 



Bap. Missionary's Daughter. 308 



William Palin. 

George W. Bethune. 
William Cullen Bryant. 
Marianne Farningham. 
Thomas C. Upham. 
Anonymous. 
Gerard Moultrie. 

Alexander Pope. 
Thomas Ken. 



309 

310 
312 
3i5 
3i7 
318 
319 
324 
325 
326 
328 







4&. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



Xlll 




Clad in garments radiant white, 

God keeps a niche in Heaven, 

Oh give them again to me, 

The innumerable greeting, 

O happy saints who dwell in light, 

My Saviour whom absent I love, 

To be with Christ which is far better, 

Will any be watching for me ? 

Give me the wings of faith, 

Lambs of the upper fold. 

Father, I long, I faint, 

Our everlasting portion, 

Oh the delights, the Heavenly joys, 

Ye whoe'er for Christ are seeking, 

Oft weeping memory sits alone, 

One in life and one in death, 

They are not lost, but gone before. 

The band that now in triumph 

shines, 
My soul there is a country, 



AUTHOR. 


PAGE. 


Archibald Edmonstone. 


32S 


Elizabeth B. Browning. 


329 


Marianne Farningham. 


330 


E. H. Bickersteth. 


331 


John Berridge. 


333 


William Cowper. 


334 


Charles W t esley. 


335 


Poems of Home Life. 


336 


Isaac Watts. 


337 




33S 


Isaac Watts. 


339 


Thomas H. Gill. 


340 


Isaac Watts. 


342 


From the Latin. 


343 


Henry Harbaugh. 


344 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


345 




346 


Giles Fletcher. 


347 


Henry Vaughan. 


349 



PART FOURTH. 

OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 



In the green pastures, 

Palms of glory, raiment white, 

When the angels all are singing, 

They praise Him day and night, 

The endless alleluia, 

What songs shall we sing? 

The music of Heaven is attuned, 

The song is ever new, 

Such concord is in Heaven, 

The everlasting praise, 

Alleluia to the Lamb, 

Angel choirs on high are singing, 



From the Spanish. 353 

James Montgomery. 354 

Sir Nicholas Breton. 355 

Marianne Farningham. 357 

Ancient Hymns and Poems. 358 

Elias Mason. 360 

F. E. Cox. 361 

Robert Pollok. 362 

John Milton. 362 

Anne Steele. 363 

From the Latin. 364 

From the Latin. 365 








jfe 



XIV 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



Seraphs with elevated strains, 
Sing with me weeping brethren, 
They keep the joyous jubilee, 



AUTHOR. 

Isaac Watts. 
James Hogg, 
horatius bonar. 



PART FIFTH. 

THE REST OF HEAVEN. 



When shall I be at rest, 

Rest for thee in Heaven. 

Then welcome change and death, 

Tell me, ye winged winds, 

My rest is not here, 

Yes, there remaineth a rest, 

And is there, Lord, a rest ? 

O restful Home, we turn to thee, 

Until the evening we must weep and 

toil, 
No tossing of the burning head, 
Yet a little care and weeping, 
Pass over to the rest of God, 

spirit, freed from bondage, 
Sweet must it be to dwell. 
Mourner, look above, 

I'm weary of straying, 
Then open, O gate of sleep, 

1 thank Thee for that word of peace, 
Beyond this toilsome clime, 

That weariness may toss him to my 

breast. 
First the sorrowftil, and then the 

glad, 
Spirit, thy labor is o'er. 
Have we found that happy city? 
Ye golden lamps, farewell, 
Rest when life is done, 
Far from the discord loud, 



George Herbert. 

horatius bonar. 

From Household Words. 
Philip Doddridge. 
Effie Johnson. 
Marianne Farningham. 




PAGE. 
366 

369 
370 



Church of Eng. Quarterly. 


373 




374 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


374 


Charles Mackay. 


375 


Henry Francis Lyte. 


377 


From the German. 


378 


Ray Palmer. 


380 


Marianne Farningham. 


381 


Anonymous. 


382 


Marianne Farningham. 


383 


From the German. 


384 


Horatius Bonar. 


385 


Mary Hovvitt. 


387 




388 


Mary S. Robbins. 


388 


Mrs. Hinsdale. 


389 


Christian Treasury. 


390 


W. S. Colton. 


391 


Anonymous. 


394 



396 

397 
398 
399 
402 

403 
404 




jfg. 




TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



XV 



Those endless sabbaths spent, 

Sorrow and sighing shall flee away, 

God's own smile, forever and forever, 

Safe home at last. 

A rest here have I never, 

Let me haste to join thy bliss, 

Hark ! angelic songs are swelling, 

Oh, what a mighty change, 

In the Christian's home in glory. 

There is an hour of hallowed peace, 

When I can read my title clear, 

Rest for the toiling hand, 

Thro' life, thro' death, to his eternal 

rest, 
O had I the wings of a dove, 
The sabbath of Thy love, 
O could our thoughts and wishes fly, 
Build thy nest higher, 
Rest weary soul, the penalty is borne, 
The golden street, 
A little while the vigil keeping, 



AUTHOR. 


PAGE. 


From Lyra Eucharistica. 


405 


Marianne Farningham. 


406 


Jane Crewdson. 


407 




408 


Paul Gerhardt. 


409 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


414 


F. W. Faber. 


415 


Charles Wesley. 


4l6 




417 


William B. Tappan. 


418 


Isaac Watts. 


419 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


420 


Anonymous. 


421 


Henry Francis Lyte. 


422 


Charles Wesley. 


422 


Anne Steele. 


423 


Gerald Massey. 


424 


Anonymous. 


425 


William 0. Stoddard. 


426 


Jane Crewdson. 


427 



PART SIXTH. 

ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 



O, to be There ! 

Clear fount of light, my native land, 

had I the wings like yonder bird, 
Dear Saviour, our hearts burn within, 
Give me now my lyre, 

Christ, let me come to thee, 
Come, Lord, my heart is sick, 
Me to Zion take in pity, 

1 would go home, 

How long, O Lord, how long ? 
Now, Lord, let me go. 



From the Dutch. 
Francesco de Aldana. 
W t eir. 

From the German. 
Elizabeth Lloyd. ■ 
Mary M. Graves. 
George Herbert. 
From the Latin. 
From the German. 
Helen L. Parmlee. 




431 

432 
432 
433 
434 
435 
437 
438 
440 
442 
443 




«£ 



}fy 



XVI 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



4^ 



take me to His feet, 
Teach me that new song, 

1 rise to see the light. 

Why tamest thou, expected day ? 

Moraris Heu ! Nimis Diu, 

I'm weary, weary, let me go, 

The beauty of my native land, 

Fade, fade, each earthly joy, 

From earth to Heaven, 

Permit mine eyes to see, 

O Heaven, sweet Heaven, 

O were I there, 

Death an entrance to Heaven, 

My spirit longs for Heaven, 

Who doth not crave thy rest ? 

My soul, don't delay, He calls thee 

away, 
Sweet glories rush upon my sight, 

for the pearly gates of Heaven, 
When shall I be, my God, with thee, 
Lead us to Thy home, 

1 love to think of Heaven, 
Haste, my beloved, raise my soul, 
Let me be with Thee, where Thou 

art, 
I send the joys of earth away, 
Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings, 
My Saviour beckons from on high, 
Come let us join our friends above, 
Meet again ! Yes, we shall meet 

again, 
Joys of the earth, ye fade away, 
Worthies there of sacred story, 
World, farewell ! of thee I'm tired, 
Ye angels who stand round the 

throne, 
While on the verge of life I stand, 
I long to behold Him arrayed, 
O for the wings of faith and love, 



AUTHOR. 


PAGE. 


From the Presbyterian. 


445 


Anonymous. 


446 




447 


From the Latin. 


448 




449 


Ray Palmer. 


450 


From the Latin. 


452 


Mrs. Horatio Bonar. 


453 


Nicol. 


455 


Robert Herrick. 


456 


Edwin H. Nevin. 


457 


Mrs. Frelinghausen. 


458 


Francis Taylor. 


459 


Mrs. Emily C. Judson. 


461 


F. W. Faber. 


462 



John Gambolde. 464 
Hym. of the Church Militant. 465 

C. F. Alexander. 466 

Samuel Crossman. 467 

F. T. Palgrave. 470 

SWAINE. 473 

Isaac Watts. 471 



Charlotte Elliott. 


472 


Isaac Watts. 


473 


Robert Seagrave. 


474 


From the London Record. 


475 


Charles Wesley. 


476 


From the German. 


478 


Christian Examiner. 


479 


From the German. 


481 


From the German. 


483 


De Fleury. 


486 


Philip Doddridge. 


4S7 



Charles Wesley. 
Mrs. Anne Steele. 



490 



V 






..Mjjy 




TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



XVll 



Thy presence beams eternal day, 

To Jesus the crown of my hope, 

When yonder glorious sky. 

O for the robes of whiteness, 

"What joy while thus I view the day, 

Would God I were in thee, 

Beyond the hills where suns go down, 

O Christ, how good and fair, 

O, I have heard His voice, 

My soul is like some fluttered dove, 

Good-night till then. 

Let me go, the day is breaking, 

My spirit pines for home, 



AUTHOR. PAGE. 

Mrs. Anne Steele. 491 

William Cowper. 492 

From the Spanish. 493 

Charitie Lees Smith. 496 

From the Latin. 497 

From the German. 499 

HORATIUS BONAR. 50I 

From the German. 502 

Charlotte Elliott. 504 

Robert C. Chapman. , 505 

From the German. 507 

James Montgomery. 508 

Anonymous. 510 



PART SEVENTH* 

WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 



Look up and hope on, 

I stand upon the river's verge, 

The road is so lonesome between, 

The land o' the leal, 

Beyond the smiling and the weeping, 

Where dost thou lie, O land of 

peace, 
I'm kneeling at the threshold, 
The land where my nestlings be, 
As home we waft from our alien 

shore, 
Lord, the waves are breaking o'er 

me, 
Dropping down the river, 
My feet are worn and weary, 
My ain countrie, 
In the distance looms before ine, 
Footsteps on the other side. 
We have no home but Heaven. 



Anonymous. 513 

From the N. Y. Observer. 514 

May Riley Smith. 515 

Lady Nairne. 517 

HORATIUS BONAR. 519 



Anonymous. 
Sunday Magazine. 
Jean Ingelow. 

Bishop Coxe. 

Hym. of the Church Militant. 

HORATIUS BONAR. 

S. Roberts. 
Mrs. M. A Lee. 
Edwin Griff. 





520 

522 
523 

525 

526 
528 
530 
53i 
533 
534 
536 





jfe 




XV111 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



Not now, my child, 

A little while to toil along, 

Why should I linger here ? 

One day nearer home, 

The prelibation of Heaven, 

My God, I wait for Thee, 

Only waiting. 

I've been thinking of home. 

Sitting on the shore, 

The golden gates appear. 

A little longer yet, 

I would not live alway, 

Near to the port, 

Ah, this heart is void and chill, 

Keep me not here, a voice is calling, 

The strange surprise, 

O, angel of the land of peace, 

Longing for the fatherland, 

Heart-sick with hope deferred, 

My spirit waiting stands, 

This dark world, and that bright 

land. 
O land unknown, in thee alone, 
When shall the dawn of day, 
O sweet home-echo on the pilgrim's 

way, 
My task is o'er, my work is done, 
Day of the beautiful, arise, awake, 
The leaves around me falling, 
Standing on the headlands, 
O what a glad ascending, 
Up to that world of light. 
When I am over Jordan, 
The stranger sea-bird, 
Ah ! how empty is the heart, 
Heavenward doth our journey tend, 
A city yet to come, 
O for the calm beyond the storm, 
Glimpses of a Heavenly home. 



AUTHOR. 

Dublin Tract Repositoiy. 
Banner of the Covenant. 
J. Birch. 
Anonymous. 
Charles Wesley. 
Nathan Colver. 



Dinah M. M. Craik. 

From the Christian Register, 
w. a. muhlenburg. 
Anonymous. 
From the German. 
George Burrows. 
Dwight Williams. 
Mrs. C. M. Sawyer. 
Marianne Farningham. 
Christina G. Rossetti. 
Isaac Watts. 



Samuel W. Duffield. 

Anonymous. 

Mrs. Huesser-Schweizer. 
From Parish Musings. 
Horatius Bonar. 
Henry Francis Lyte. 
From Leaves Gathered. 
Horatius Bonar. 

Anonymous. 
Horatius Bonar. 
From the German. 
From Schmolk. 
Horatius Bonar. 
Anonymous. 
Anonymous. 



PAGE. 

537 
539 
54o 
541 

542 
545 
546 
547 
549 
550 
550 
552 
554 
556 
557 
558 
560 
561 
562 
564 

565 
566 

567 

569 
57i 

572 
573 
574 
576 
577 
578 

579 

581 
582 
584 
585 
586 





Jg/ 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



No shadows yonder, 
As when the traveller gams, 
Here in the body pent, 
The angel at the gate, 

weary halting pilgrim, 
Christ, let me come to thee. 

Lord God, now open wide thy heaven, 
When at last the hour is come, 
The home sickness, 
World, farewell ! of thee I'm tired, 
What now we know not then to 

know, 
A few more years shall roll, 
There may we our treasure place, 
The sands of time are sinking, 
Wandering down life's path, 

1 can tarry but a night, 

A little longer still, beloved, 



P&RT EIGHTH. 

THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 



No ! no ! it is not dying. 
Come, brothers, let us onward, 
Homeward in song. 
Only one crossing over, 
My days are gliding swiftly by, 
Pilgrims, on ! the day is dawning, 
So near, and yet so far, 
The undiscovered country, 
Up the misty stair they climb, 
Shall we gather at the river? 
One sweetly solemn thought, 
O happy pilgrims, spotless fair. 
It is told me I must die. 
Our beloved have departed, 




XIX 



AUTHOR. 


PAGE. 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


588 


John Newton. 


589 


James Montgomery. 


590 


C. F. Burrows. 


59i 


Anonymous. 


592 




595 


From the German. 


597 


From the German. 


598 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


600 


From the German. 


602 


Anonymous. 


605 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


606 


James Montgomery. 


608 


Samuel Rutherford. 


609 


Horatius Bonar. 


612 


Mary S. B. Dana. 


614 


Adelaide A. Proctor. 


615 




From the German. 


619 


Gerhard Terstegan. 


620 




622 


Anonymous. 


623 


David Nelson. 


624 


Anonymous. 


625 


Lenthal. 


626 


From the Round Table. 


627 


Adelaide A. Proctor. 


629 




631 


Phcebe Cary. 


632 




633 




634 


Lange. 
> 


636 





_ff&><[ - 



XX 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



Away to the land of light, 

Call it a peaceful rest. 

Into the city of the blest. 

The sentry by the portal, 

I'm returning not departing, 

When for eternal worlds I steer. 

Through the cross the crown, 

Launch thy boat, mariner, 

Wouldst thou inherit life with 

Christ ? 
The pearly gates ajar, 
Pilgrims from all lands, 
The road is short, the rest is long, 
With steady feet they press along, 
Jesus, guide our way, 
I sail to the land of the blest, 
O'ercome and reign with me, 
There's a sound of feet in the desert 

track, 
I'm going home, 
My fatherland is yonder, 
I'm but a stranger here, 
Jesus like the magnet raises, 
Come let us go to Heaven, 
To Heaven we march on, 
Joyfully onward we move. 
Thus I take my pilgrimage, 
Come let us lift our joyful eyes, 
As eager traveller to the goal, 
Come let us our journey pursue, 
Brethren, while we sojourn here. 
The weaiy ones rest, forgetting their 

woe, 
Know ye the land and the way? 
Come, arise, I am the way, 
It is not death to die, 
Thy way, not mine, 
Jesus, still lead on, 
Through night to light, 





Marianne Farningham. 


637 




638 




639 


Thomas McKellar. 


641 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


642 




643 


From the German. 


644 


Caroline Southey. 


045 


Simon Dach. 


647 


Emily C. Judson. 


648 


Marshall B. Smith. 


649 


From the German. 


652 


Marianne Farningham. 


653 


Arthur Tozer Russel. 


654 


E. D. Jackson. 


655 


Thomas H. Gill. 


656 


Marianne Farningham. 


658 


Anonymous. 


659 


From Lyra Germanica. 


661 


F. R. Taylor. 


664 


From S pitta. 


665 


James Montgomery. 


667 


James Montgomery. 


668 




669 


Sir Walter Raleigh. 


671 


Isaac Watts. 


672 


Christina G. Rossetti. 


673 


Charles Wesley. 


675 




676 


Marianne Farningham. 


677 


From the German. 


678 


Thomas B. Read. 


679 


George W. Bethune. 


681 


Horatius Bonar. 


682 


From the German. 


683 


From the German. 


684 



Jtfc 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



Is this the way, my Father ? 

Song of the silent land. 

Does the road wind up hili all 

way ? 
Pilgrims of every land and clime, 
Take up thy cross and follow me. 
Through death to life, 



the 



PART NINTH. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 



A golden string, 

In some hour of solemn jubilee, 

Jesus my hope of Heaven. 

Daybreak, 

Come to me, dreams of Heaven, 

On this side Sion's hill. 

The Christian's home. 

The spirit gleams, 

That beautiful world. 

Christ in Heaven. 

Saints communing, 

Degrees in Heaven, 

Paradise in a symbol, 

The land to which I'm going, 

They are not dead. 

The charmer, 

The Alpine shepherd, 

View of Heaven, 

Desiring Heaven, 

Dreams of Heaven, 

Employment in Heaven, 

Entering Heaven. 

Epitome of Heaven, 

Estimate of Heaven, 

Land in sight. 





XXI 



AUTHOR. 


PAGE. 




686 


J. G. Von Salis. 


6S7 


Christina G. Rossetti. 


688 


HORATIUS BONAR. 


689 




691 


Harbaugh. 


692 



W. Blake. 


697 


S. T. Coleridge. 


698 




698 


R. H. Dana. 


700 


Mrs. Felicia Hemans. 


703 




704 




707 


Sarah L. Russell. 


709 




710 




711 


E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 


711 


E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 


713 


Christina G. Rossetti. 


7i5 




717 




718 


Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 


720 


Mrs. Maria Lowell. 


722 


E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 


723 


L. Hartsough. 


725 


Mrs F. D. Hemans. 


727 


E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 


729 




730 


E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 


730 


James Shirley. 


73i 




732 




-yig 




it 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 



We have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens. — 2 Cor. 5:1. 

Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard neither have entered into the heart of man, 
the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. — 1 Cor. 2 : 9. 

In my Father's house are many mansions : if it were not so I would have told 
you. I go to prepare a place for you. — John 14 : 2. 

I will that they also whom thou hast given me, be with me, where I am, thai 
they may behold my glory. — John 17 : 24. 







-£& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN 



EVERLASTING LIGHT. 



William Cowper. 



HEAR what God the Lord hath spoken 
" O my people, faint and few, 
Comfortless, afflicted, broken, 
Fair abodes I build for you ; 
Thorns of heartfelt tribulation 

Shall no more perplex your ways ; 

You shall name your walls Salvation, 

And your gates shall all be Praise. 

" There, like streams that feed the garden, 
Pleasures without end shall flow ; 

For the Lord, your faith rewarding, 
All His bounty shall bestow ; 

Still in undisturbed possession 

Peace and righteousness shall reign, 

Never shall you feel oppression, 
• Hear the voice of war again. 

" Ye, no more your sun's descending, 
Waning moons no more shall see, 

But, your griefs forever ending, 
Find eternal noon in me ; 





& 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



God shall rise, and, shining o'er you, 
Change to day the gloom of night ; 

He, the Lord, shall be your glory, 
God your Everlasting Light." 



ONWARD INTO LIGHT. 



Richard Chenevix Trench. 



O 



UR course is onward, onward into light ; 
What though the darkness gathereth amain ? 
Yet to return or tarry, both are vain. 
How starry, when around us thick is night ? 
Whither return ? What flower yet ever might, 
In days of gloom, and cold, and stormy rain, 
Enclose itself in its green bud again, 
Hiding from wrath of tempest out of sight ? 

Courage ! we travel through a darksome cave ; 
But still, as nearer to the light we draw, 
Fresh gales will meet us from the upper air, 

And wholesome dews of heaven our foreheads lave, 
The darkness lighten more, till full of awe 
We stand in the free sunshine, unaware. 






— qjy- 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 



MY NATIVE LAND. 



From the Spanish, by H. W. Longfellow. 



CLEAR fount of light ! my native land on high, 
Bright with a glory that shall never fade ! 
Mansion of Truth ! without a veil or shade, 
Thy holy quiet meets the spirit's eye. 
There dwells the soul in its ethereal essence, 
Gasping no longer for life's feeble breath ; 
But sentinelled in Heaven, its glorious presence 
With pitying eye beholds, yet fears hot death.. 
Beloved country !. banished from thy shore, 
A stranger in this prison-house of clay, 
The exiled spirit weeps and sighs for thee ! 
Heavenward the bright perfections I adore 
Direct, and the sure promise cheers the way, 
That whither my love aspires, there shall my dwelling be. 



MY COUNTRY'S LOVELINESS. 



From the Latin of Casimir, by R. C Trench. 



I 



T kindles all my soul, 
My Country's loveliness ! Those starry 
choirs 
That watch around the pole, 
And the moon's tender light, and heavenly fires 
Through golden halls that roll. 







=g£& 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O, chorus of the night ! O, planets, sworn 

The music of the spheres 
To follow ! Lovely watchers, that think scorn 

To rest till day appears ! 
Me, for celestial homes of glory born, 

Why here, oh why so long 
Do ye behold an exile from on high ? 

Here, oh ye shining throng, 
With lilies spread the mound where I shall lie 

Here let me drop my chain, 
And dust to dust returning, cast away 

The trammels that remain ; 
The rest of me shall spring to endless day. 



HEAVEN OF HEAVENS. 



Edmund Spenser. 



LOOK thou no further, but affixe thine eye 
On that bright shynie, round, still moving masse, 
The house of blessed God, which men call skye, 
All sowed with glistering stars more thicke than grasse, 
Whereof each other doth in brightnesse passe. 
But those two most which, ruling night and daye, 
As king and queene, the heaven's empire sway. 

And tell me then, what hast thou ever seene 
That to their beautie may compared bee ? 

Or can the sight that is most sharpe and keene 
Endure their Captain's flaming head to see? 
How much lesse those much higher in degree, 







.& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

And so much fairer, and much more than these, 
As these are fairer than the land and seas ? 

For farre above those heavens which here we see 
Be others farre exceeding these in light ; 

Not bounded, not corrupt, as these same bee, 
But infinite in largenesse, and in height, 
Unmoving, uncorrupt, and spotlesse bright, 

That need no sunne t' illuminate their spheres, 

But their own native light farre passing theirs. 

And as these heavens still by degrees arize, 
Until they come to their first Mover's bound, 

That in his mightie compasse doth comprize, 
And carrie all the rest with him around ; 
To those likewise, doe by degrees redound, 

And rise more faire, till they at last arrive 

To the most faire, Whereto they all do strive. 

Faire is the Heaven, where happy souls have place 

In full enjoyment of felicitie, 
Whence they doe still behold the glorious face 

Of the Divine Eternall Maiestie ; 

More faire is that, where those Idees on hie 
Enraunged bee, which Pluto so admyred, 
And pure Intelligences from God inspyred. 







^ 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



HERE AND THERE. 



J. P. Lange. 



WHAT no human eye hath seen, 
What no mortal ear hath heard. 
What on thought has never been 

In its noblest flights conferred — 
This has God prepared in store 
For His people evermore ! 

When the shaded Pilgrim-land 
Fades before my closing eye, 

Then revealed on either hand, 

Heaven's own scenery shall lie ; — 

Then the veil of flesh shall fall, 

Now concealing, darkening all. 

Heavenly landscapes, calmly bright, 
Life's pure river, murmuring low ; 

Forms of loveliness and light 
Lost to earth long time ago ; 

Yes, mine own lamented long, 

Shine amid the angel throng! 

Many a joyful sight was given 
Many a lovely vision here — 

Hill, and vale, and starry even, 

Friendship's smile, — affection's tear ; 

These were shadows sent in love, 

Of realities above ! 






A- 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

When upon my wearied ear 
Earth's last echoes faintly die, 

Then shall angel-harps draw near, — 
All the chorus of the sky ; 

Long-hushed voices blend again 

Sweetly in that welcome strain ! 

Here, were sweet and varied tones — 
Bird, and breeze, and fountain's fall 

Yet creation's travail-groans 
Ever sadly sighed through all. 

There no discord jars the air — 

Harmony is perfect There ! 

When this aching heart shall rest, 

All its busy pulses o'er, 
From her mortal robes undrest 

Shall my spirit upward soar. 
Then shall unimagined joy 
All my thoughts and powers employ. 

Here, devotion's healing balm, 
Often comes to soothe my breast. 

Hours of deep and holy calm — 
Earnests of eternal rest. 

But the bliss is here unknown, 

Which shall There be all my own ! 

Jesus reigns, the Life, the Sun 
Of that wondrous world above ; 

All the storms and clouds are gone, 
All is light, and all is love ; 

All the shadows melt away 

In the blaze of perfect day! 



T 







jjiy 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE- DWELLING-PLACE ABOVE. 



Bishop Mant. 



THERE is a dwelling-place above ; 
Thither, to meet the God of love, 
The poor in spirit go ; 
There is a paradise of rest ; 
For contrite hearts and souls distrest 
Its streams of comfort flow. 

There is a goodly heritage, 

Where earthly passions cease to rage ; 

The meek that haven gain. 
There is a board, where they who pine, 
Hungry, athirst, for grace divine, 

May feast, nor crave again. 

There is a voice to mercy true ; 
To them who mercy's path pursue 

That voice shall bliss impart — 
There is a sight from man concealed, 
That sight — the face of God revealed — 

Shall bless the pure in heart. 

There is a name, in Heaven bestowed, 

That name, which hails them " Sons of God." 

The friends of peace shall know : 
There is a kingdom in the sky, 
Where they shall reign with God on high, 
Who serve him best below. 




«f^_ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

Lord, be mine like them to choose 
The better part, — like them to use 

The means Thy love hath given. 
Be holiness my aim on earth, 
That Death be welcome as a birth 

To life and bliss in Heaven ! 



THE GOODLY LAND. 



Mrs. Anne Steele. 




FAR from these narrow scenes of night 
Unbounded glories rise, 
And realms of infinite delight, 
Unknown to mortal eyes. 

Far distant land ! could mortal eyes 

But half its joys explore, 
How would our spirits long to rise 

And dwell on earth no more ! 

There, pain and sickness never come, 

And grief no more complains ; 
Health triumphs in immortal bloom — 
And endless pleasure reigns. 

From discord free, and war's alarms, 

And want, and pining care, 
Plenty and peace, unite their charms, 

And smile unchanging There. 

■4- 





"% 






IO HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There, rich varieties of joy, . 

Continual feast the mind ; 
Pleasures which fill, but never cloy — 

Immortal and refined! 

No factious strife, no envy there, 
The sons of peace molest ; 

But harmony, and love sincere 
Fill every happy breast. 

No clouds those blissful regions know, 

Forever bright and fair ! 
For sin, the source of mortal woe, 

Can never enter There. 

There, no alternate night is known, 
Nor sun's faint sickly ray ; 

But glory, from the Sacred Throne 
Spreads everlasting day. 

The glorious Monarch There displays 

His beams of wondrous grace ; 
His happy subjects sing His praise, 
And bow before His face. 

Oh, may the heavenly prospect fire 
Our hearts with ardent love, 

Till wings of faith and strong desire 
Bear every thought above. 

Prepare us, Lord, by grace divine, 
For Thy bright courts on high ; 

Then bid our spirits rise and join, 
The chorus of the sky ! 




■4gfcg 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. II 



YON BRIGHT WONDER-LAND. 



From Schiller, by A. C. Kendrick. 



FROM this vale, with mists hung over, 
With eternal storms oppressed, 
Could I but a path discover, 

Ah, how deeply were I blest ! 
Clothed in bloom that ne'er shall wither, 

Yonder hills allure my eye ; 
Give me wings, and quickly thither, 
O, how quickly would I fly ! 

There melodious murmurs ringing, 

Breathe a deep, a heavenly calm ; 
And the gentle winds are winging 

Richest spices' fragrant balm. 
Fruits of golden hue are glowing, 

Which the dark green leaves embower; 
And the flowers that there are blowing 

Feel no iron Winter's power. 

O, how sweet to dwell and wander 

Where the sun-light gushes free ! 
Balmy airs that wanton yonder, 

O, how soothing must they be ! 
But before that wondrous dwelling 

Doth this angry torrent roll ; 
And, in wrathful surges swelling, 

Spreads dismay through all my soul. 






)rifc- 




12 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Lo ! yon rocking bark appearing ! 

But, alas ! the oarsman fails ; 
Cheerly in then, never fearing ; 

Breath of heaven inspires the sails. 
Thou must trust, and thou must venture 

Heaven will pledge no helping hand ; 
Wondrous might alone can enter 

Into yon bright wonder-land. 



HOW CAN WE KNOW THE WAY?" 



The following is the translation of the foregoing of Schiller, by Sir Edward 
Bulwer Lytton. 



FROM out this dim arid gloomy hollow, 
Where hang the cold clouds heavily, 
Could I but gain the clue to follow, 
How blessed would the journey be ! 

Aloft, I see a fair dominion, 

Through time and change, all vernal still ; 
But where the power, and what the pinion, 

To gain the ever-blooming hill ? 

Afar, I hear the music ringing, 

The lulling sounds of Heaven's repose ; 

And the light gales are downward bringing 
The sweets of flowers the mountain knows. 

9 I see the fruit, all golden glowing, 

Beckon, the glassy leaves betv/een : — 
And o'er the winds that there are blowing, 
Nor blight nor winter's wrath hath been. 






4gg : 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 3 

Ye suns that shine forever yonder, 

O'er fields that fade not, sweet to flee ; 

The very zephyrs there that wander, 
How healing must their breathing be ! 



NONE IN HEAVEN BUT THEE. 



Sir Robert Grant. 



LORD of earth ! thy bounteous hand 
Well this glorious frame hath planned 
Woods that wave, and hills that tower, 
Ocean rolling in his power, 
All that strikes the gaze unsought, 
All that charms the lonely thought ; — 
Friendship, — gem transcending price, 
Love, a flower of Paradise ; — 
Yet, amid this scene so fair, 
Should I cease Thy smile to share, 
What were all its joys to me? 
" Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ? " 

Lord of Heaven ! beyond our sight 
Rolls a world of purer light ; 
There, in Love's unclouded reign, 
Parted hands shall join again ; 
Martyrs there, and prophets high, 
Blaze, a glorious company ; — 
While immortal music rings 
From unnumbered seraph strings ; 






Jte 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Oh that scene is passing fair ! 

Yet shouldst Thou be absent there 

What were all its joys to me ? 

" Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ! " 

Lord of earth and Heaven ! my breast 
Seeks in Thee its only rest ; 
I was lost — Thy accents mild 
Homeward lured Thy wandering child ; 
I was blind — Thy healing ray 
Charmed the long eclipse away ; 
Source of every joy I know, 
Solace of my every woe ; 
Yet should once Thy smile divine 
Cease upon my soul to shine, 
What were Heaven on earth to me ? 
" Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ?" 



SONNET TO HEAVENLY BEAUTY. 



Du Bellay, 1550. 



IF this our little life is but a day 
In the Eternal, — if the years in vain 
Toil after hours that never come again, — 
If everything that hath been must decay. 
Why dreamest thou of joys that pass away, 
My soul, that my sad body doth restrain ? 
Why of the moment's pleasure art thou fain ? 
Nay, thou hast wings, — nay, seek another stay 






-J^. 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I 5 

■ • 
There is the joy whereto each soul aspires, 

And there the rest that all the world desires, 

And there is love and peace and gracious mirth ; 

And there in the most highest heaven shalt thou 

Behold the Very Beauty, whereof now 

Thou worshippest the shadow upon earth. 



NO NIGHT SHALL BE IN HEAVEN. 



Thomas Raffles. 



NO night shall be in Heaven, — no gathering gloom 
Shall o'er that glorious landscape ever come ; 
No tears shall fall in sadness o'er those flowers 
That breathe their fragrance through celestial bowers. 

No night shall be in Heaven, — no dreadful hour 
Of mental darkness, or the tempter's power ; — 
Across those skies no envious cloud shall roll, 
To dim the sunlight of the enraptured soul. 

'No night shall be in Heaven. Forbid to sleep, 
These eyes no more their mournful vigils keep ; 
Their fountains dried, their tears all wiped away, 
Their gaze undazzled on Eternal Day. 

No night shall be in Heaven, — no sorrows reign. 
No secret anguish, no corporeal pain, 
No shivering limbs, no burning fever there — 
No soul's eclipse, no winter of despair. 





jtfy. 




1 6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

J\ T o night shall be in Heaven, — but endless noon ; 
No fast- declining sun, nor waning moon ; 
But There the Lamb shall yield perpetual light, 
'Mid pastures green, and waters ever bright. 

No night shall be in Heaven, — no darkened room, 
No bed of death, nor silence of the tomb ; 
But breezes ever fresh with love and truth 
Shall brace the frame with an immortal youth ! 

No night shall be in Heaven. But night is here — 
The night of sorrow and the night of fear ; 
I mourn the ills that now my steps attend, 
And shrink from others that may yet impend. 

No night shall be in Heaven. Oh, had I faith, 
To rest in what the Faithful Witness saith, 
That faith should make these hideous phantoms flee, 
And leave no night henceforth on earth to me ! 



NO GRAVES ARE THERE. 



R. A. Rhees. 



"N' 



"O graves are there,'' 
No willow weeps above the grassy bed 
Where sleeps the young, the fondly loved, the fair, 
The early dead ! 







^ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 7 

No funeral knell 
Blends with the breeze of spring its mournful tone, 
Bidding henceforth the balmy breezes tell 

Of loved ones gone. 

O'er the cold brow- 
No bitter tears of agony are shed ; 
None o'er the still, pale form, in anguish bow, 

Whence life has fled. 

" No graves are there," 
Nor sunny slope, green turf, or quiet grot, 
Those sad mementoes of departure bear, 

For death is not. 

That fearful foe ! 
Here, ever bearing from us those we love, 
Resistless as his power is owned below, 

Has none above. 

No ! in the tomb 
Ends his dominion ; — there his power is o'er, 
And they who safely tread its path of gloom 

Shall die no more ! 



No graves are there ; 



&> 



Father, we thank thee that there is a clime 

g 



Guarded alike from death, and grief, and care, 
Untouched by Time. 



We praise Thy name 
That from the dust and darkness of the tomb 
We can look up in faith, and humbly claim 

Our future home. 





-A 



18 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Hasten the day 
When, passing death's dark vale without a fear, 
We, as we reach that heavenly home, may say 

No graves are here ! 



ATTRACTIONS OF HEAVEN. 



N' 



O sickness There — 
No weary wasting of the frame away, 
No fearful shrinking from the midnight air, 
No dread of summer's bright and fervid ray ! 



No hidden grief, 
No' wild and cheerless vision of despair ; 
No vain petition for a swift relief, 
No tearful" eye, no broken heart are There ! 

Care has no home 
Within that realm of ceaseless praise and song ; 
Its surging billows toss and melt in foam, 
Far from the mansions of the spirit-throng. 

The storm's black wing 
Is never spread athwart celestial skies ; 
Its wailings blend not with the voice of Spring, 
As some too tender flow'ret fades and dies. 

No night distils 
Its chilling dews upon the tender frame ; 
No morn is needed There ! the light which fills 
The land of glory, from its Maker came. 






>gt§/ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 9 

No parted friends 
O'er mournful recollections have to weep — 
No bed of death — enduring love attends, 
To watch the coming of a pulseless sleep ! 

No withered flower, 
Or blasted bud, celestial gardens know ! 
No scorching blast or fierce descending shower 
Scatters destruction like a ruthless foe. 

No battle-word 
Startles the sacred hosts with fear and dread ; 
The song of Peace, Creation's morning heard, 
Is sung wherever angel footsteps tread ! . 

Let us depart, 
If home like this await the weary soul ! 
Look up, thou stricken one ! Thy wounded heart 
Shall bleed no more at sorrow's stern control. 

With Faith our guide, 
White-robed and innocent, to tread the way, — 
Why fear to plunge in Jordan's rolling tide, 
And find the Haven of eternal dav ? 






jgg. 




20 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



ALLUREMENTS OF HEAVEN. 



E. H. BlCKERSTETH. 



THUS Heaven is gathering, one by one, in its 
capacious breast, 

All that is pure and permanent, and beautiful and blest ; 

The family is scattered yet, though of one home and 
heart, 

Part militant in earthly gloom, in heavenly glory part ; 

But who can tell the rapture, when the circle is com- 
plete, * 

And all the children, scattered now, before the Father 
meet ? 

One fold — one Shepherd — one employ — one universal 
home ! 

" Lo, I come quickly." Even so — " Amen — Lord Jesus, 
come !" 



REUNION. 



Bishop Mant. 



I COUNT the hope no day-dream of the mind, 
No vision fair, of transitory hue, — 
The souls of those whom once on earth we knew 
And loved, and walked with, in communion kind, 
Departed hence, again in Heaven to find ! 
Such hope to nature's sympathies is true : 
And such, we deem, the holy word to view 
Unfolds, an antidote for grief designed ; 





y^ . 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

One drop from comfort's well. 'Tis true we read 
The book of life ; but if we read it not amiss, 

By God prepared, fresh treasures shall succeed, 
To kinsmen, fellows, friends, a vast abyss 

Of joy, nor aught the longing spirit need 
To fill its measure of enormous bliss! 



KNOW AS WE ARE KNOWN. 



Bishop Ken. 



THE saints on earth, when sweetly they converse, 
And the dear favors of kind Heaven rehearse, 
Each feels the other's joys, both doubly share 
The blessings which devoutly they compare* 
If saints such mutual joy feel here below, 
When they each other's heavenly foretastes know, — 
What joys transport them at each other's sight, 
When they shall meet in the empyrean height ! 
Friends e'en in Heaven one happiness would miss, 
Should they not know each other, when in bliss. 



THE MEETING-PLACE. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



WHERE the faded flower shall fteshen- 
Freshen never more to fade ; 
Where the faded sky shall brighten — 
Brighten never more to shade ; 







<§jr 



22 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Where the sun-blaze never scorches, 

Where the starbeams cease to chill ; 
Where no trumpet stirs the echoes 

Of the wood, or wave, or hill ; 
Where the morn shall wake in gladness, 

And the noon the joy prolong ; 
Where the daylight dies in fragrance, 

'Mid the burst of holy song ; — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blessed ! 

Where no shadow shall bewilder, 

Where life's vain parade is o'er, 
Where the sleep of sin is broken, 

And the dreamer dreams no more ; 
Where the bond is never severed, — 

Partings, claspings, sobs and moans, 
Midnight waking, twilight weeping, 

Heavy noon-tide, — all are done. 
Where the child has found its mother, 

Where the mother finds her child ; 
Where dear families are gathered. 

That were scattered on the wild ; — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
•Mid the holy and the blessed ! 

Where the hidden wound is healed, 
Wher%the blighted life reblooms, 

Where the smitten heart, the freshness 
Of its buoyant youth resumes ; 

Where the love that here we lavish 




j 




Me 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

On the withering leaves of Time, 
Shall have fadeless flowers to fix on, 

In an ever spring-bright clime ; 
Where we find the joy of loving 

As we never loved before — 
Loving on unchilled, unhindered, 

Loving once, and never more ! 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blessed ! 

Where a blasted world shall brighten, 
. Underneath a bluer sphere ; 
And a softer, gentler sunshine 

Sheds its healing splendor There ; 
When earth's barren vales shall blossom, 

Putting on her robes of green, 
And a purer, fairer Eden 

Be where only wastes have been, — 
Where a King, in kingly glory, 

Such as earth has never known, 
Shall assume the Righteous Sceptre, 

Claim and wear the holy crown ; — 
Brother, we shall meet and rest 
'Mid the holy and the blessed ! 






3J%- 




24 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE LAND OF WHICH I DREAM. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



SURELY yon Heaven, where angels see God's face, 
Is not so distant as we deem 
From this low earth ! — 'Tis but a little space, 
The narrow crossing of a slender stream ; — 
'Tis but a mist which winds might blow aside. 
Yes, these are all that us of earth divide 
From the bright dwellings of the glorified ; — 
The Land of which I dream. 

These peaks are nearer Heaven than earth below, 

These hills are higher than they seem ; 
'Tis not the clouds they touch, nor the soft brow 

Of the o'erbending azure, as we deem: 
Tis the blue floor of Heaven that they upbear, 
And, like some old and wildly rugged stair, 
They lift us to the" land where all is fair, — 
The Land of which I dream. 




These ocean waves, in their unmeasured sweep, 

Are brighter, bluer than they seem ; 
True image here of the celestial deep, 

Fed from the fullness of the unfailing stream; 
Heaven's glassy sea of everlasting rest, 
With not a breath to stir its silent breast, 
The sea that laves the land where all are blest — 
The Land of which I dream. 






jgjy. 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 25 

And these keen stars, the bridal gems of night, 

Are purer, lovelier than they seem ; 
Filled from the inner fountain of deep light, 

They pour down Heaven's own beam ; 
Clear, sparkling, from their throne of glorious blue, 
In accents ever ancient, ever new, 
Of the glad home above, beyond my view, — 

The Land of which I dream. 

This life of ours, these lingering years of earth, 

Are briefer, swifter, than they seem ; 
A little while, and the great second birth 

Of Time shall come, — the prophet's ancient theme. 
Then He, the King, the Judge, at length shall come, 
And from this desert, where we sadly roam, 
Shall give the Kingdom, for our endless home, — 

The Land of which I dream. 



MORE BLEST THAN EDEN. 



Bishop Coxe. 



THERE is a land like Eden fair, 
But more than Eden blest ; 
The wicked cease from troubling There, 
The weary are at rest. 

There is a land of calmest shore, 
Where ceaseless summers smile, 

And winds, like angel-whispers, pour 
Across the shining isle. 
2 






MM> 




26 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



There is a land of purest mirth, 
Where healing waters glide ; 

And There, the weaned child of earth 
Untroubled may abide. 



There is a land where Sorrow's sons 
Like ocean wrecks are tossed ; 

But There revive those weeping ones, 
When life's dull sea is crossed. 

There is a land where small and great 

Before the Lord appear ; 
The spoils of fortune and of fate, 

Whom heaven alone can cheer. 

There is a land where star-like shine 
The pearls of Christ's renown ; 

And gems long buried in the mine 
Are jewels in His crown. 

There is a land like Eden fair, 
But more than Eden blest ; 

Oh, for a wing to waft me There,, 
To fly, and be at rest ! 








-A- 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 21 



HIS THRONE AND TEMPLE. 



W. A. MUHLENBURG. 

SINCE o'er thy footstool here below 
Such radiant gems are strewn, 
Oh, what magnificence must glow, 

My God, about Thy throne ! 
So brilliant here those drops of light — 
Where the full ocean rolls, how bright ! 

If night's blue curtain of the sky, 

With thousand stars inwrought, 
Hung like a glittering canopy 

With royal diamonds fraught, 
Be, Lord, Thy temple's outer veil 
What splendor at the shrine must dwell ! 

The dazzling sun, at noontide hour, 

Forth from his flaming vase 
Flinging o'er earth the golden shower 

Till vale and mountain blaze, — 
But shows, O Lord, one beam of Thine, 
What, then, the Day, where Thou dost shine ! 

Oh, how shall these dim eyes endure 

That noon of living rays ; 
Or how my spirit, so impure, 

Upon thy glory gaze ? 
Anoint, O Lord, anoint my sight, 
And robe me for that world of light ! 





^. 




28 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



TO BE THERE! 



Elizabeth Mills. 



WE speak of the realms of the blest, 
Of that country so bright and so fair- 
And oft are its glories confessed, 
But what must it be to be There ! 

We speak of its pathways of gold, 

Of its walks decked with jewels so rare, 

Of its wonders and pleasures untold — 
But what must it be to be There ! 

We speak of its freedom from sin, 
From sorrow, temptation, and care, 

From trials without and within — 
But what must it be to be There ! 

We speak of its service of love, 

Of the robes which the glorified wear, 

Of the Church of the First-born above — ■ 
But what must it be to be There ! 

Do Thou, Lord, midst sorrow and woe 
Still for Heaven our spirits prepare ; 

And shortly we also shall know, 
And feel what it is to be There ! 






-^ 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 2g 



THE OTHER WORLD. 



Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 



IT lies around us like a cloud, — 
A world we do not see ; 
Yet the sweet closing of an eye 
May bring us There to be ! 

Its gentle breezes fan our cheek ; 

Amid our worldly cares 
Its gentle voices whisper love, 

And mingle with our prayers. 

Sweet hearts around us throb and beat, 
Sweet helping hands are stirred, — 

And palpitates the veil between 
With breathings almost heard ; 

The silence — awful, sweet, and calm — ■ 
They have no power to break ; 

For mortal words are not for them 
To utter or partake. 

So thin, so soft, so sweet they glide, 
So near to press they seem, — 

As fain to lull us to our rest, 
And melt into our dream. 







30 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And in the hush of rest they bring, 

'Tis easy now to see 
How lovely and how sweet a pass 
The hour of death may be. 

To close the eye, and close the ear, 
Wrapped in a trance of bliss, . 

And gently dream, in loving arms 
To swoon to That — from this. 

Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep, 
Scarce asking where we are, — 

To feel all evil sink away, 
All sorrow and all care. 

Sweet souls around us ! watch us still, 

Press nearer to our side, 
Into our thoughts— into our prayers 

With gentle helpings glide. 

Let Death between us be as naught — 
A dried and vanished stream ; 

Our joy, be the reality — 

Our suffering — life, the dream. 




-«. 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 3 1 



HEAVEN NEAR. 



Mrs. Mary J. Robinson. 



OH, Heaven is nearer than mortals think, 
When they look with a trembling dread 
At the misty future, that stretches on 
From the silent home of the dead. 

Tis no lone isle in a boundless main, 

No brilliant, but distant shore, 

Where the lovely ones who are called away 

Must go, to return no more. 

No, Heaven is near us ; — the mighty veil 
Of mortality blinds the eye, 
That we see not always the angel bands 
On the shores of Eternity. 

Yet oft, in the hours of holy thought, 

To the thirsting soul is given 

That power to pierce through the mist of sense, 

To the beauteous scenes of Heaven. 

Then very near seem its pearly gates, 
And sweetly its harpings fall ; 
Till the soul is restless to soar away, 
And longs for the angels' call. 






■jj&g. 




32 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I know when the silver cord is loosed, 
When the veil is rent away, 
Not long and dark shall the passage be, 
To the realms of endless day. 

The eye that shuts in a dying hour 

Will open the next in bliss ; 

The welcome will sound in the heavenly world, 

For the farewell is hushed in this. 



THE VOICEFUL LAND. 



C. H. A. BULKLEY. 



; Into the Silent Land 
Ah ! who shall lead us thither ? " — Longfellow. 

J^piS not a Silent Land ! 

J- Tones of harmonic spheres, 
Heard not by mortal ears, 
Thither their echoes roll 
Into the answering soul ; 

Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 

'Tis not a Silent Land, 
Voices of angel-throngs 
Rain down their chorus-songs 
Over ethereal hills, 
'Till the rapt spirit thrills; 

Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 







NATURE OF HEAVEN. 33 

"Tis not a Silent Land ! 
Harps, with their golden-strings, 
Dipped as in music-springs, 
Swept by the touch of love, 
Ring in the realms above ! 

Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 

'Tis not a Silent Land ! 
Footsteps of spirits sound 
All through the air profound, 
Gently as wind-tones make 
Ripples on stream and lake ; 

Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 

'Tis not a Silent Land ! 
Ever celestial wings, 
Bathed in the amber-springs 
Deep of God's ocean light, 
Fan the swift paths of flight ; 

Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 

'Tis not a Silent Land ! 
Psalm-breaths of joy arise, 
Pulsing through inner skies, 
When the sin-child returns 
Whither Truth's incense burns ; 

Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 

'Tis not a Silent Land ! 
Hosts of the pure and true, 
Shouts of delight renew 






A 




34 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Round the beloved, fled 
Far from the speechless dead ; 
Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 

'Tis not a Silent Land ! 
Welcomes divine are given, 
Whene'er, death's fetters riven, 
Holy ones evermore 
Step on the better shore ; 

Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 

'Tis not a Silent Land ! 
Far from the song-wrapt throne 
Peals the unchanging tone, 
Keying all notes above, 
To the unisons of love ! 

Oh ! 'tis a Voiceful Land ! 



HEAVEN'S JOYS. 



Thomas a'Kempis — 1380-1471. 



HIGH the angel choirs are raising 
Heart and voice in harmony; 
The Creator King, still praising, 
Whom in beauty there they see. 

Sweetest strains from soft harps stealing ; 
Trumpets, notes of triumph pealing ; 
Radiant wings, and white stoles gleamin'g, 
Up the steps of glory streaming ; 






jte 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 35 

Where the heavenly bells are ringing ; 
Holy, holy, holy ! singing — 

To the mighty Trinity ! 
Holy, holy, holy ! crying ; 
For all earthly care and sighing 

In that city cease to be ! 



Every voice is there harmonious, 
Praising God in hymns symphonious ; 
Love each heart with light unfolding, 
As they stand in peace beholding 

There the Triune Deity ! 
Whom adore the seraphim 

Aye, with love eternal burning ; 
Venerate the cherubim, 

To their Fount of honor turning; 

Whilst angelic thrones adoring, 
Gaze upon His majesty. 

O how beautiful that region ! 
And how fair that heavenly legion, 

Where thus men and angels blend ! 
Glorious will that city be, 
Full of deep tranquillity, 

Light and peace from end to end ! 
All the happy dwellers there 

Shine in robes of purity, 

Keep the laws of charity, 

Bound in firmest unity ; — 
Labor finds them not, nor care. 






-^ 




?,6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



Ignorance can ne'er perplex, 
Nothing tempt them, nothing vex ; — 
Joy and health their fadeless blessing, 
Always all things good possessing ! 



THE INCORRUPTIBLE. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



NO joy is true, save that which hath no end ; 
No life is true, save that which liveth ever ; 
No health is sound, save that which God doth send ; 
No love is real, save that which changeth never. 

Heaven were no heaven, if its dear light could fade ; 

If its fair glory could hereafter wane ; 
If its sweet skies could suffer stain or shade, 

Or its soft breezes waft one note of pain. 

But now its beauty is forever vernal ; 

Its glory is the glory of its King, 
Undying, incorruptible, eternal ; 

And ever new the song its dwellers sing. 

O heaven of heavens, how true thy life must be ! 

O home of God, how excellent thy light ! 
O long, long Summer of eternity, 

Bright noon of angels, ever clear and bright ! 





4te 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 2>7 



THERE SHALL BE NO MORE SEA. 



Marianne Farningham. 



ALL day sigh on the shore the surging billows 
That steal with greedy lips our joys away ; 
All night roll on the ever-shifting pillows 

On which the weary breathe their lives alway. 

Awhile the waves are bright with flashing sunlight, 
There are dark silent graves far, far below ; 

And while they darkly toss, 'mid gloom of midnight, 
Our treasures heavily beneath them go. 

We are not safe ! The foe too near us glideth, 

Serenely, silently, insidiously ; 
And all the safeguards passionate love provideth 

It sweeps from clinging grasps relentlessly. 

All round the island of our lives it surges, 
Enwraps us closely — there is no escape ; 

And while the syren's voice our ruin urges, 
The restless billows far beneath us gape. 

Thus rolls the sea of care and sorrow ever 
Above our very hearts, close to our homes ; 

We deprecate its rule with vain endeavor, 
The heavy roaring wave still nearer comes. 







M- 




38 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

" There shall be no more sea." O, golden city, 
The loved, the longed for, the eternal blest ; 

The waves shall touch not those who have God's pity, 
In thy fair homes of perfect peace and rest. 

" There shall be no more sea." O God, our Father, 
When sorrow's waters beat us ceaselessly, 

Help us to bear the grief till thou shalt gather 
Thy loved, thy cared for, where is no more sea. 



LIFE'S QUESTIONS. 



Henry Alford. 



DRIFTING away 
Like mote on the stream, 
To-day's disappointment 

Yesterday's dream ; 
Ever resolving — 

Never to mend — 
Such is our progress ; 
Where is the end ? 

Whirling away 

Like leaf in the wind ; 
Points of attachment 

Left daily behind ; 
Fixed to no principle, 

Fast to no friend — 
Such our fidelity ; 

Where is the end ? 







jg£ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 39 

Floating away 

Like clouds on the hill, 
Pendulous, tremulous, 

Migrating still ; 
Where to repose ourselves? 

Whither to tend? 
Such our consistency ; 

Where is the end ? 

Crystal the pavement, 

Seen through the stream ; 
Firm the reality 

Under the dream. 
We may not feel it, 

Still we may mend — 
How we have conquered 

Not known till the end. 

Bright leaves may scatter, ■ 

Sport of the wind ; 
But stands to the winter 

The great tree behind. 
Frost shall not wither it, 

Storms cannot bend ; 
Roots firmly clasping 

The Rock at the end. 

Calm is the firmament 

Over the cloud ; 
Clear shine the stars through 

The rifts of the shroud. 







jgg. 




40 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There our repose shall be ; 

Thither we tend — 
Spite of our waverings, 

Approved at the end. 



TALK TO ME OF HEAVEN. 



Mrs. Southey. 



OH ! talk to me of heaven ! I love 
To hear about my home above ; 
For there doth many a loved one dwell 
In light and love ineffable. 
Oh! tell how they shine and sing, 
While every harp rings echoing, 
And every glad and tearless eye 
Beams, like the bright sun, gloriously. 
Tell me of that victorious palm 

Each hand in glory beareth ; 
Tell me of that celestial calm 

Each face in glory weareth. 

Oh! happy, happy country ! where 

There entereth not a sin ; 
And death, who keeps its portals fair. 

May never once come in. 
No grief can change their day to night — ■ 
The darkness of that land is light. 
Sorrow and sighing God has sent 
Far thence to endless banishment. 



<q 






jte 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 4 1 

And never more may one dark tear 

Bedim their burning eyes ; 
For every one they shed while here, 

In cheerless agonies, 
Glitters a bright and dazzling gem, 
In their immortal diadem. 

Oh! lovely, blooming country ! there 
Flourishes all that we deem fair, 
And though no fields nor forests green, 
Nor bowery gardens there are seen, 

Nor perfumes load the breeze, 
Nor hears the ear material sound, 
Yet joys at God's right hand are found — 

The archetypes of these. 
There is the home, the land of birth 
Of all we highest prize on earth ; 
The storms that rack this world beneath — 

Must forever cease ; 
The only air the blessed breathe 

Is purity and peace. 

Oh ! happy, happy land ! in thee 

Shines the unveiled Divinity, 

Shedding through each adoring breast 

A holy calm, a halcyon rest, 

And those blessed souls, whom death did sever, 

Have met to mingle joys forever. 

Oh ! soon may Heaven unclose to me! 

Oh ! may I soon that glory see ! 

And my faint, weary spirit stand 

Within that happy, happy land ! 







)glg 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE WITNESS OF EARTH TO HEAVEN. 



Thomas B. Gill. 



WHAT sweetness on Thine Earth doth dwell ! 
How precious, Lord, these gifts of thine! 
Yet sweeter messages they tell, 
These earnests of delight divine. 

Yes ! glory out of glory breaks, 

More than the gift itself is given : 
Each gift a glorious promise makes ; 

Thine earth does prophesy of Heaven. 

These mighty hills we joy to climb, 
These happy streams we wander by, 

Reveal the Eternal Hills sublime, — 
Of God's own river prophesy. 

These odors blest, these gracious flowers, 
These sweet sounds that around us rise, 

Give tidings of the Heavenly Bowers, 
Prelude the Angelic Harmonies. 

These vernal hours — what news they bring ! 

What tidings these bright summers tell ! 
They fore-announce the Eternal Spring, 

Foreshow the Light Ineffable. 







=& 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 43 

And in these gracious ones so dear, 

These just souls that our souls make strong, 

We feel the holy angels near, 

We mingle with the Blissful Throng. 

O mercies kindly incomplete ! 

Dear joys our hearts that may not fill ! 
Strange grace ! that in Thy gifts most sweet 

We read of gifts diviner still. 

Lord ! from Thy gifts to Thee we rise ; 

But with more strength we soar above 
Upon these glorious prophecies, 

These earnests of Thy dearer love. 



DOWN BELOW, AND UP ABOVE. 



Dublin University Magazine. 



D 



OWN below, the wild November whistling 
Through the beech's dome of burning red, 
And the Autumn, sprinkling penitential 
Dust and Ashes on the chestnut's head. 



Down below, a pall of airy purple, 

Darkly hanging from the mountain- side, 

And the sunset from his eyebrow staring 
O'er the long roll of the leaden tide. 







-^ 



44 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Up above — the Tree with leaf unfading, 

By the everlasting River's brink, 
And the Sea of Glass, beyond whose margin 

Never yet the sun was known to sink. 

Down below, the white wings of the sea-bird 
Dashed across the furrows, dark with mould, 

Flitting, like the memories of our childhood, 
Through the trees, now waxen pale and old. 

Down below, imaginations quivering 

Through our human spirits, like the wind ; 

Thoughts, that toss, like leaves about the woodland. 
Hopes, like sea-birds, flashed across the mind. 

Up above — the host no man can number. 

In white robes, a palm in every hand, 
Each some work sublime forever working 

In the spacious tracts of that Great Land. 

Up above — the thoughts that know not anguish, 

Tender care, sweet love for us below, 
Noble pity, free from anxious terror, 

Larger love, without a touch of woe. 

Down below, a sad, mysterious music, 

Wailing through the woods, and on the shore, 

Burdened with a grand majestic secret, 
That keeps sweeping from us evermore. 





A- 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 45 

Up above — a music that entwineth 

With eternal threads of golden sound, 
The great poem of this strange existence, 

All whose wondrous meaning hath been found. 

Down below, the church, to whose poor window 

Glory by the autumnal trees is lent, — 
And a group of worshippers in mourning, 

Missing some one at the sacrament. 



Up above — the burst of Hallelujah, 
And (without the sacramental mist 

Wrapped around us, like a sunlit halo,) 
The great vision of the face of Christ. 

Down below, cold sunlight on the tombstones, 
And the green wet turf, with faded flowers. 

Winter-roses, once like young hopes burning 
Now beneath the ivy dripped with showers. 

And the new-made grave, within the churchyard, 
And the white cap on that young face pale, 

And the watcher, ever as it dusketh, 
Rocking to and fro, with that long wail. 

Up above, — a crowned and happy spirit, 
Like an infant in the eternal years, — 

Who shall grow in love and light forever, 
Ordered in his place, among his peers. 





J& 




46 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Oh, the sobbing of the winds of autumn ! 

Oh, the sunset streak of stormy gold ! 
Oh, the poor heart ! thinking in the churchyard 

Night is coming, and the grave is cold ! 



Oh, the pale, and plashed, and sodden roses ! 

Oh, the desolate heart, that grave above ! 
Oh the white cap, shaking as it darkens 

Round that shrine of memory and love ! 

Oh, the Rest forever, and the rapture ! 

Oh, the Hand that wipes the tears away ! 
Oh, the golden Homes, beyond the sunset, — 

And the Hope, that watches o'er the clay ! 



SOON AND FOREVER.' 



J. S. MONSELL. 



SOON and forever ! 
Such promise our trust, 
Though " ashes to ashes 

And dust to dust,"— 
Soon, and forever, 

Our union shall be 
Made perfect, our glorious 
Redeemer, in Thee. 







jte 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 



47 



When the sins and the sorrows 

Of Time shall be o'er, 
Its pangs and its partings 

Remembered no more ! 
When life cannot fail, 

And when death cannot sever, 
Christians with Christ shall be 

Soon and forever ! 



Soon and forever 

The breaking of day 
Shall drive all the night-clouds 

Of sorrow away ; 
Soon and forever 

We'll see as we're seen, 
Ard learn the deep meaning 

Of things that have been ; 
When trials without us, 

And fears from within, 
Shall weary no more 

In the warfare of sin ; 
Where tears and where snares, 

And where death shall be never, 
Christians with Christ shall be 

Soon and forever. 



Soon and forever 

The work shall be done — 
The warfare accomplished, 

The victory won ! 







A 




48 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Soon, and forever, 

The soldier lay down 
His sword for a harp, 

And his cross for a crown. 
Then droop not in sorrow, 

Despond not in fear, 
A glorious to-morrow 

Is brightening and near ! 
When, blessed reward 

Of each faithful endeavor, 
Christians with Christ shall be 

Soon and forever ! 



THE GATES OF THE CELESTIAL CITY. 



I SEE them far away, 
In their calm beauty on the evening skies ; 
Across the golden west, their summits rise 

Bright with the radiance of departing day. 
And often ere the sunset light was gone, 
Gazing and longing, I have hastened on, 
As with new strength, all weariness and pain 
Forgotten, in the hope those blissful heights to gain 

Heaven lies not far beyond ; — 
But then these hills of earth — our changeful air 
Circles around them, and the dwellers there 

Still own mortality's mysterious bond. 





J&C 



=4> 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 



49 



The ceaseless contact, the continued strife 

Of sin and grace, which can but close with life, 

Is not yet ended, and the Jordan's roar 

Still lies between their path and the Celestial shore. 

Courage, poor fainting heart I 
These happy ones, in the far distance seen, 
Were sinful wanderers once, as thou hast been, 

Weary and sorrowful, as now thou art. 
Linger no longer on the lonely plain — 
Press boldly onward — and thou too shalt gain 
Their vantage-ground ; and then, with vigor new, 
All thy remaining race and pilgrimage pursue. 



ETERNITAS ! ETERNITAS ! 



From the Latin, by C. F. Coxe. 



ETERNITY! Eternity! 
How long art thou, Eternity ? 
Yet onward still to thee we speed, 
As to the fight the impatient steed, 
As ship to port, or shaft to bow, 
Or swift as couriers homeward go. 
Mark well, O man, Eternity ! 

Eternity ! Eternity ! 
How long art thou, Eternity? 
As in a ball's concentric round 
Nor starting-point nor end is found, 
3 





&-. 




$0 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

So thou, Eternity so vast, 
No entrance and no exit hast. 
Mark well, O man, Eternity ! 

Eternity ! Eternity ! 
How long art thou, Eternity ? 
Came there a bird each thousandth year, 
One sand-grain from the hills to bear, 
When all had vanished, grain by grain, 
Eternity would still remain. 
Mark well, O man, Eternity! 



HEAVEN AT LAST. 



ANGEL voices sweetly singing, 
Echoes through the blue dome ringing, 
News of wondrous gladness bringing ; 
Ah, 'tis heaven at last ! 

Now, beneath us all the grieving, 
All the wounded spirit's heaving, 
All the woe of hopes deceiving; 

Ah, 'tis heaven at last ! 

Sin forever left behind us, 
Earthly visions cease to blind us, 
Fleshly fetters cease to bind us ; 

Ah, 'tis heaven at last ! 







jte 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

On the jasper threshold standing, 
Like a pilgrim safely landing, 
See the strange bright scene expanding 
Ah, 'tis heaven at last ! 

What a city ! what a glory ! 
Far beyond the brightest story 
Of the ages old and hoary ; 

Ah, 'tis heaven at last ! 

Christ himself the living splendor, 
Christ the sunlight mild and tender ; 
Praises to the Lamb we render ; 

Ah, 'tis heaven at last ! 



AT HOME. 



H. B. Collins. 



AT home. For thou hast reached, 
At length, thro' wearying toils and sighs and 
pains, 
The far-off shore our faith so dimly sees, 
Looking thro' tears. The pearly gates, flung wide 
To welcome thee, are passed ; the threshold crossed ; 
Of thine own mansion — one of the "many," full pre- 
pared 
And waiting to receive thee. Blessed state ! 
The long-sought rest! the higher, purer life 






$!m. 




52 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Fraught with celestial good, and all secure 

From every ill. Secure, for round thee now 

The walls of heaven's eternal city rise ! 

Her golden streets and gorgeous palaces 

Thronged with glad millions, who nor day nor night 

Hush the loud chorus of Redeeming Love — 

Her stately towers and glittering domes and spires 

Gleaming on high in heaven's eternal light ; 

And birds of Paradise, and fruits and flowers, 

And trees immortal on the sunny banks 

Of living waters — all are before thee, round thee, 

All are thine ; angels thy company ; and God, 

Father of all, adored of all, glory of all, 

Even God is thine. 



I SHALL BE SATISFIED.' 



From the Congregationalist. 



NOT here ! not here ! not where the sparkling 
waters 
Fade into mocking sands as we draw near ; 
Where in the wilderness each footstep falters — 
I shall be satisfied — but oh ! not here. 

Not here ! where every dream of bliss deceives us, 
Where the worn spirit never gains its goal : 

Where, haunted ever by the thoughts that grieve us, 
Across us floods of bitter memory roll. 






_^ r 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. C, 

There is a land where every pulse is thrilling 
With rapture earth's sojourners may not know, 

Where Heaven's repose the weary heart is stilling 
And peacefully life's time-tossed currents flow. 

Far out of sight, while yet the flesh infolds us, 
Lies the fair country where our hearts abide, 

And of its bliss is nought more wondrous told us, 
Than these few words, " I shall be satisfied." 

Satisfied ! satisfied ! The spirit's yearning 

For sweet companionship with kindred minds — 

The silent love that here meets no returning — 
The inspiration which no language finds — 

Shall they be satisfied ? the soul's vague longing — 
The aching void which nothing earthly fills ? 

O ! what desires upon my soul are thronging 
As I look upward to the heavenly hill. 

Thither my weak and weary steps are tending — 
Saviour and Lord ! with Thy frail child abide ! 
Guide me toward home, where all my wanderings end 

ing, 
I then shall see Thee, and " be satisfied." 







^ 




54 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE ETERNAL SMILE. 



Henry Kirk White. 



HAIL ! the heavenly scenes of peace, 
Where all the storms of passions cease ; 
Wild life's dismaying struggle o'er, 
The wearied spirit weeps no more, 

But wears the eternal smile of joy 
Attaining bliss without alloy ! 
Welcome, welcome, happy bowers, 
Where no passing tempest lowers ; 

Where the azure heavens display 
The everlasting beams of day ; 
Where the radiant seraph choirs 
Pour their strain from golden lyres ; 

Where calm the spirit sinks to ease 

Lulle'd by angelic symphonies ! 

O, then to think of meeting there 

The friends whose grave received our tear ! 

The child long lost, the wife bereaved, 
Back to the widowed arms received ; 
And all the joys which death did sever, 
Given to us again forever ! 






y£%. 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 55 

O Lamb of God, by sorrow proved 
The Friend of man, the Christ beloved, 
To Thee this sweetest hope we owe 
Which warms our shivering hearts below. 



JUST BEYOND. 

WEARY life we live below ; 
Shadows dim the sunlight so ! 
There's a Home of endless rest 
Waiting for the ransomed blest. 
Just beyond. 

Desert thirst oppresses here, 
Yearning for a better sphere ; 
There the .crystal waters flow ; 
Precious " fulness" we shall know, 
Just beyond. 

Death will meet us here below ; 
Through " dark waters" we must g6. 
Soon our anguish will be o'er ; 
Jesus standeth on the shore, 
Just beyond ! 





4& 



4- 



56 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



LIGHT AND LOVE. 



Alice Cary. 



LIGHT waits for us in heaven : Inspiring thought ! 
That when the darkness all is overpast, 
The beauty which the Lamb of God has bought 

Shall flow about our saved souls at last, 
And wrap them from all night-time and all woe : 
The Spirit and the Word assure us so. 

Love lives for us in heaven ; Oh, not so sweet 

Is the May dew which the mountain flowers inclose, 

Nor golden raining of the winnowed wheat, 
Nor blushing out of the brown earth, of rose, 

Or whitest lily, as, beyond time's wars, 

The silvery raising of these two twin stars ! 



THE LAND OF PEACE. 



Marianne Farningham. 



THERE breathes no sigh from those calm hearts in 
that abode of peace, 
The home of all the happy, where the sorrow all shall 

cease ; 
No harsh heart-breaking words are heard, for the lips 

are love-tinged there, 
In the land of all the beautiful, the perfect, and the 
fair. 







^K: 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 



57 



There falls no pain upon the heart, where sickness 
cannot come, 

No shrieks of agony are wrung within that blissful 
home ; 

Cool on the fevered spirit falls the soothing music- 
tone, 

And the brow has no more sign of pain, in that blessed 
world unknown. 

No rough winds blow across the waves of that bright 

glassy sea ; 
There the timid ones are safe at home, in the dwelling 

of the free ; 
Life's fearful journey over, they are resting now, at 

last, 
And the spirits sing a grateful song that the troublous 

times are past. 



Oh, Father, pity us, who weep along the wayside 

drear, 
And bring us also to that land, with the holy and the 

dear ; 
Guide thou us to the home of love, to the blessed land 

of peace, 
Where our tears forever wiped away — our fears and 

bondage cease. 






)jj% 




58 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



DIES ILLA, DIES VITAE. 



A Hymn of the 12th Century. 



LO ! the day, the day of life, the day of unimagined 
light, 
The day when death itself shall die, and there shall be 

no more night. 
Steadily that day approacheth when the just shall find 

their rest, 
When the wicked cease from troubling, and the patient 
reign most blest. 

See the King desired for ages, by the just expected 

long; 
Long implored, at length He hasteth, cometh with 

salvation strong. 
Oh, how past all utterance happy, sweet and joyful it 

will be 
When they who, unseen, have loved Him, JESUS face 

to face shall see. 

In that day how good and pleasant, this poor world to 
have despised ; 

And how mournful and how bitter, dear that lost 
world to have prized : 

Blessed then earth's patient mourners, who for Christ 
have toiled and died, 

Driven by the world's rough pressure in those man- 
sions to abide. 





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NATURE OF HEAVEN. 59 

There shall be no sighs nor weeping, not a shade of 
doubt or fear, 

No old age, no want, nor sorrow, nothing sick or lack- 
ing there : 

There the peace will be unbroken, deep and solemn 
joy be shed ; 

Youth in fadeless flower and freshness, and Salvation 
perfected. 

What will be the bliss and rapture none can dream and 

none can tell, 
There to reign among the Angels, in that Heavenly 

home to dwell. 
To those realms, just Judge, oh call me, deign to open 

that blest gate, 
Thou whom seeking, looking, longing, I with eager 

hope await. 



PARADISE: IN A DREAM. 



Christina G. Rossetti. 



ONCE in a dream I saw the flowers 
That bud and bloom in Paradise ; 
More fair they are than waking eyes 
Have seen in all this world of ours. 
And faint the perfume-bearing rose, 

And faint the lily on its stem, 
And faint the perfect violet 
Compared with them. 







& 




6a HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I heard the songs of paradise : 

Each bird sat singing in his place ; 
A tendering so full of grace 

It soared like incense to the skies. 

Each bird sat singing to his mate 
Soft cooing notes among the trees . 

The nightingale herself were cold 
To such as these. 

I saw the fourfold River flow, 

And deep it was, with golden sand ; 
It flowed between a mossy land 

Which murmured music grave and low. 

It hath refreshment for all thirst, 

For fainting spirits strength and rest 

Earth holds not such a draught as this 
From east to west. 



The Tree of Life stood budding there, 
Abundant with its twelvefold fruits ; 
Eternal sap sustains its roots, 

Its shadowing branches fill the air. 

Its leaves are healing for the world, 
Its fruit the hungry world can feed, 

Sweeter than honey to the taste 
And balm indeed. 

I saw the gate called Beautiful ; 

And looked, but scarce could look, within 

I saw the golden streets begin, 
And outskirts of the glassy pool. 







A- 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 6 I 

Oh harps, oh crowns of plenteous stars, 

Oh green palm-branches many-leaved — 
Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, 
Nor heart conceived. 

I hope to see these things again, 

But not as once in dreams by night ; 
To see them with my very sight, 

And touch, and handle, and attain : 

To have all Heaven beneath my feet 
For narrow way that once they trod ; 

To have my part with all the Saints, 
And with my God. 



THE ONE GLAD DAY. 



Fredrick D. Huntington. 



THERE is no night in heaven ; 
In that blest world above 
Work never can bring weariness, 

For work itself is love. 
There is no night in. heaven ; 
Yet nightly round the bed 
Of every Christian wanderer 
Faith hears an angel tread. 

There is no grief in heaven ; 

For life is one glad day, 
And tears are of those former things 

Which all have passed away. 






62 



■qljjy. 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



There is no grief in heaven ; 

Yet angels from on high, 
On golden pinions earthward glide. 

The Christian's tears to dry. 

There is no sin in heaven ; 

Behold that blessed throng ; 
All holy in their spotless robe, 

All holy in their song. 
There is no sin in heaven ; 

Here who from sin is free ? 
Yet angels aid us in our strife 

For Christ's true liberty. 

There is no death in heaven ; 

For they who gain that shore 
Have won their immortality, 

And they can die no more. 
There is no death in heaven ; 

But when the Christian dies, 
The angels 'wait his parted soul, 

And waft it to the skies. 








NATURE OF HEAVEN. 63 



THE MOURNER'S HEAVEN. 



Thomas H. Gill. 



'Make us glad according to the days wherein Thou hast afflicted us, and the 
years wherein we have seen evil." 



HOW bright they bloom, those Heavenly Bowers, 
For all Thy people, Lord ! 
What sweetness from the unfading flowers 
O'er all their path is poured ! 

That Heavenly Home — what joy is there 

For hearts with love that beat ! 
That Better Land, that Holy Air, 

For seeking souls how sweet ! 

But brightest, Lord, on weeping eyes 

The Happy Fields do break ; 
Those golden gates, those smiling skies 

Thy mourners gladdest make. 

O eager to the Realm of Rest 

The weary pilgrims come ; 
What hearts, like hearts forlorn, are blest 

In the sweet Heavenly Home ! 

The memory of these mournful years 

The heavenly joy fulfils ; 
More sad and lone the Vale of Tears, 

More bright the Eternal Hills. 







^ 




64 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE LAND BEYOND THE SEA. 



Frederick William Faber. 



THE Land beyond the Sea! 
When will life's task be o'er ? 
When shall we reach that soft blue shore, 
O'er the dark strait whose billows foam and roar? 
When shall we come to thee, 
Calm Land beyond the Sea ? 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

How close it often seems, 

When flushed with evening's peaceful gleams ; 

And the wistful heart looks o'er the strait, and dreams! 

It longs to fly to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

Sometimes distinct and near 

It grows upon the eye and ear, 

And the gulf narrows to a threadlike mere ; 

We seem halfway to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

Sometimes across the strait, 

Like a drawbridge to a castle gate, 

The slanting sunbeams lie, and seem to wait 

For us to pass to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 





$t& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 65 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

Oh how the lapsing years, 

Mid our not unsubmissive tears, 

Have borne, now singly, now in fleets, the biers 

Of those we love to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

How dark our present home ! 

By the dull beach and sullen foam 

How wearily, how drearily we roam, 

With arms outstretched to thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 
When will our toil be done ? 
Slow-footed years ! more swiftly run 
Into the gold of that unsetting sun ! 
Homesick we are for thee, 
Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

Why fadest thou in light ? 

Why art thou better seen towards night ? 

Dear Land ! look always plain, look always bright, 

That we may gaze on thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 

The Land beyond the Sea ! 

Sweet is thine endless rest, 

But sweeter far that Father's Breast 

Upon thy shores eternally possest ; 

For Jesus reigns o'er thee, 

Calm Land beyond the Sea ! 






jig: 




66 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE SHORE OF ETERNITY. 



Frederick William Faber. 



ALONE ! to land alone upon that shore ! 
With no one sight that we have seen before, — 
Things of a different hue, 
And the sounds all new, 
And fragrances so sweet the soul may faint. 
Alone ! Oh that first hour of being a saint ! 

Alone ! to land alone upon that shore ! 
On which no wavelets lisp, no billows roar, 

Perhaps no shape of ground, 

Perhaps no sight or sound, 
No forms of earth our fancies to arrange, — 
But to begin alone that mighty change ! 

Alone ! to land alone upon that shore ! 
Knowing so well we can return no more : 

No voice or face of friend, 

None with us to attend 
Our disembarking on that awful strand, 
But to arrive alone in such a land ! 

Alone ! to land alone upon that shore ! 
To begin alone to live for evermore, 

To have no one to teach 

The manners or the speech 
Of that new life, or put us at our ease : — 
Oh that we might die in pairs or companies i 



M 



«r 




J&£ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. by 

Alone ! No ! God hath been there long before, 
Eternally hath waited on that shore 

For us who were to come 

To our eternal home ; 
And He hath taught His angels to prepare 
In what way we are to be welcomed there. 

Like one that waits and watches He hath sate, 
As if there were none else for whom to wait, 

Waiting for us, for us 

Who keep Him waiting thus, 
And who bring less to satisfy His love 
Than any other of the souls above. 

Alone ? The God we know is on that shore, 
The God of whose attractions we know more 

Than of those who may appear 

Nearest and dearest here.: 
Oh is He not the life-long friend we know 
More privately than any friend below! 

Alone ? The God we trust is on that shore, 
The Faithful One whom 'we have trusted more 

In trials and in woes 

Than we have trusted those 
On whom we leaned most in our earthly strife, — 
Oh we shall trust Him more in that new life ! 

Alone ? The God we love is on that shore, 
Love not enough, yet whom we love far more, 

And whom we've loved all through, 

And with a love more true 
Than other loves, — yet now shall love Him more : — 
True love of Him begins upon that shore ! 





lfi§ 




68 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

So not alone we land upon that shore : 

'Twill be as though we had been there before ; 

We shall meet more we know 

Than we can meet below, 
And find our rest like some returning dove, 
And be at home at once with our Eternal Love ! 



THE LAST DAY AND ETERNAL LIFE. 



Paul Gerhardt : Translated by John Kelly. 



THE time is very near 
When, Lord, Thou wilt be here 
The signs whereof Thou'st spoken 
Thine advent should betoken, 
We've seen them oft fulfilling 
In number beyond telling. 

What shall I do then, Lord ? 
But rest upon Thy word, 
The promise Thou hast given 
That thou wilt come from heaven, 
Me from the grave deliver 
And from all woe for ever. 

Ah ! Jesus Christ, how fair 
Will be my portion there ! 
The welcome thou'lt address me, 
Thy glances, how they'll bless me, 
When I the earth forsaking, 
My flight to Thee am taking. 






,=& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 69 

Ah ! what will be the word 
Thou'lt speak, my Shepherd Lord ! 
What will be then Thy greeting, 
Me and my brethren meeting? 
Thy members Thou wilt own us, 
And near Thyself enthrone us. 

And in that blessed hour, 

How shall I have the pow'r 

Mine eyelids dry of keeping, 

How tears of joy from weeping 

Refrain, that flowing over 

My cheeks, like floods would cover? 

And what a beauteous light 
Will from Thy face so bright 
Beam on me, then in heaven, 
When sight of Thee is given, 
Thy goodness then me filling, 
Joy will my breast be swelling. 

ril see then and adore 
Thy body bruised sore, 
Whereon our faith is founded, 
The prints of nails that wounded 
Thy hands and feet be greeting, 
Thy gaze with rapture meeting. 

Thou, Lord, alone dost know 

The joys so pure that flow 

In life's unfailing river 

In paradise for ever, 

Thou can'st portray, and show them : 

By faith alone I know them. 







A 



70 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

What I've believ'd stands sure, 
Remaineth aye secure ; 
My part the wealth surpasseth, 
The richest here amasseth ; 
All other wealth decayeth 
My portion ever stayeth. 

My God r my fairest Part ! 
How will my bounding heart 
With joy be overflowing, 
Praise evermore renewing, 
When through the door of heaven 
By Thee is entrance given ? 

Thou'lt say, " Come, taste and see, 
Oh ! child, belov'd by me, 
Come, taste the gifts so precious 
I and my Father gracious 
Have to bestow, come hither, 
In pleasure bask forever.'' 

Alas I thou world so poor ! 
Of wealth, what is thy store ? 
Mean is it to be holden, 
Compar d with all the golden 
Crowns and thrones Jesus placeth 
For whom He loves and graceth. 

Here is the angeFs home, 
Bless' d spirits hither come, 
Here nought is heard but singing, 
Nought seen but joy up-springing, 
No cross, no death, no sorrow, 
No parting on the morrow. 






A 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 7 I 

Hold ! hold ! my sense so weak ! 
What dost thou think and speak, 
What's fathomless, art sounding? 
What's measureless, art bounding? 
Here must man's wit be bending, 
The eloquent be ending. 

Lord ! I delight in Thee, 
Thou ne'er shalt go from me, 
Thy hand in bounty giveth 
More than my heart conceiveth, 
Or I can e'er be counting, 
So high Thy mercy's mounting. 

How sad, O Lord, am I, 
Until I from on high 
See Thee in glory hither 
Come, Thine own to deliver, 
Wert Thou but now revealing 
Thyself! my wish fulfilling! 

The time is known to Thee ; 
It best becometh me 
To be prepar'd for going, 
And all things so be doing, 
That every moment even 
My heart may be in Heaven. 

This grant, Lord, and me bless. 
That so Thy truth and grace 
May keep me ever waking, 
That Thy day not o'ertaking 
Me unawares, affright me, 
But may. O Lord, delight me ! 







— ^jy. 




72 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE EVERLASTING REST. 



Thomas H. Gill. 



" There remaineth a rest for the people of God." 

PATIENT art Thou, Lord, and gracious 
With Thy servants in their woe ; 
In Thy sight the tears are precious 
From Heaven-turned eyes that flow : 
Yet why sorrow, 
Heirs of rest eternal, so ? 

Hast Thou nought for them that love Thee, 

No sweet guerdon for their pains ? 
Lacks their love the power to move Thee, 
Want and woe their only gains ? 
Boundless Giver ! 
For Thine own a rest remains. 

Would they for some treasure tarry, 
Of more sweetness be possessed ? 
Would they lighter burdens carry, 

With more pleasant tasks be blessed ? 
Bootless yearning, 
T.ieirs the everlasting rest. 

Spare them, Lord, no task diurnal, 

Spare Thine own no burden sore ! 
They can wait the Year Eternal, 
They can wait the heavenly shore ; 
Calm they tarry, 
Heirs of rest forevermore. 



^ 






4fr 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 7} 

Here below a glorious gladness 

Maketh sweet their toils and pains ; 
Here they drop the song of sadness 
For the glad immortal strains ; 
Thou hast spoken ! 
For Thine own a rest remains. 



HOW GLORIOUS MUST THE MANSION BE. 



Reginald Heber. 



I PRAISED the earth, in beauty seen 
With garlands gay of various green ; 
I praised the sea, whose ample field 
Shone glorious as a silver shield ; 
And earth and ocean seemed to say, 
" Our beauties are but for a day." 

I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled 
On wheels of amber, and of gold; 
I praised the moon, whose softer eye 
Gleamed sweetly through the summer sky ; 
And moon, and sun, in answer said, 
" Our days of light are numbered." 

O God ! O good beyond compare ! 

If thus Thy meaner works are fair, 

If thus Thy bounties gild the span 

Of ruined earth, and sinful man, 

How glorious must the mansion be, 

Where Thy redeemed shall dwell with Thee ! 







&. 




74 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE BETTER LAND. 



Mrs. Felicia Hemans. 



" T HEAR thee speak of the better land ; 
Jl Thou call'st its children a happy band ; 
Mother ! O where is that radiant shore, — 
Shall we not seek it and weep no more? 
Is it where the flower of the orange blows, 
And the fire-flies glance through the myrtle boughs ? 
" Not there, not there, my child ! " 

" Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, 
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies, 
Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas 
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, 
And strange, bright birds on their starry wings 
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?" 

11 Not there, not there, my child ! " 



" Is it far away in some region old 
Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, — 
Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, 
And the diamond lights up the secret mine, 
And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand, 
Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? " 

" Not there, not there, my child ! 











NATURE OF HEAVEN. 75 

" Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy! 
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy, 
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair, — 
Sorrow and death may not enter there ; 
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom, 
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb, 

It is there, it is there, my child ! " 



LOOK UP YE SAINTS. 



Henry W. Baker. 



t 



THERE is a blessed home 
Beyond this land of woe, 
Where trials never come, 

Nor tears of sorrow flow ; 
Where faith is lost in sight, 

And patient hope is crowned, 
And everlasting light 
Its glory throws around. 

There is a land of peace. 

Good angels know it well ; 
Glad songs that never cease 

Within its portals swell ; 
Around its glorious throne 

Ten thousand saints adore 
Christ, with the Father one, 

And Spirit, evermore. 






y^M 



76 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O joy all joys beyond, 

To see the Lamb who died, 
And count each sacred wound 

In hands, and feet, and side ! 
To give to Him the praise 

Of every triumph won, 
And sing through endless days 

The great things He hath done. 

Look up, ye saints of God, 

Nor fear to tread below 
The path your Saviour trod 

Of daily toil and woe ; 
Wait but a little while 

In uncomplaining love ; 
His own most gracious smile 

Shall welcome you above. 



THE SECOND DAY OF CREATION. 

w 

T. Whytehead. 



THIS world I deem 
But a beautiful dream 
Of shadows that are not what they seem, 
Where visions rise, 
Giving dim surmise 
Of the things that shall meet our waking eyes. 





vfa 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. JJ 

Arm of the Lord ! x 

Creating Word ! 
Whose glory the silent skies record 

Where stands Thy name 

In scrolls of flame 
On the firmament's high-shadowing frame. 

I gaze o'erhead, 

Where Thy hand hath spread 
For the waters of Heaven that crystal bed, 

And stored the dew 

In its deeps of blue, 
Which the fires of the sun come tempered through. 

Soft they shine 

Through that pure shrine, 
As beneath the veil of Thy flesh divine, 

Beams forth the light 

That were else too bright 
For the feebleness of a sinner's sight. 

I gaze aloof 

On the tissued roof, 
Where time and space are the warp and woof, 

Which the King of kings 

As a curtain flings 
O'er the dreadfulness of eternal things, — 

A tapestried tent 

To shade us meant 
From the bare everlasting firmament ; 

Where the blaze of the skies 

Comes soft to our eyes 
Through a veil of mystical imageries. 






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78 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

But could I see 

As in truth they be, 
The glories of Heaven that encompass me, 

I should lightly hold 

The tissued fold 
Of that marvellous curtain of blue and gold. 

Soon the whole 

Like a parched scroll 
Shall before my amazed sight uproll, 

And without a screen 

At one burst be seen 
The Presence wherein I have ever been. 

O ! who shall bear 

The blinding glare 
Of the Majesty that shall meet us there ? 

What eye may gaze 

On the unveiled blaze 
Of the light-girdled throne of the Ancient of days ? 

Christ us aid ! 

Himself be our shade, 
That in that dread day we be not dismayed ! 







ate 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 79 



MY GUESS OF HEAVEN 



Thomas Ken. 



" For the hope which is laid up for you in Heaven." 

NOR eye, ear, thought, can take the height 
To which my song is taking flight, 
Yet raised an humble wing, 
My guess of Heaven I'll sing ; 
Tis Love's reward, and Love is fired 
By guessing at the bliss desired. 

Guess then at saints' eternal lot, 
By due considering what 'tis not, 

No misery, want, or care, 

No death, no darkness there, 
No troubles, storms, sighs, groans, or tears, 
No injury, pains, sickness, fears. 

There souls no disappointments meet, 
No vanities the choice to cheat, 

Nothing that can defile, 

No hypocrite, no guile, 
No need of prayer, or what implies, 
Or absence or vacuities. 

There no ill conscience gnaws the breast, 
No tempters holy souls infest, 

No curse, no weeds, no toil, 

No errors to embroil. 
No lustful thought can enter in, 
Or possibility of sin. 











80 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

From all vexations here below, 
The region of sin, death and woe. 

Song, to your utmost stress 

Now elevate your guess, 
Sing what in sacred lines you read, 
Of bliss for pious souls decreed. 

They dwell in pure ecstatic light, 
Of God Triune have blissful sight, 

Of Fontal Love, who gave 

God Filial, man to save ; 
Of Jesus' Love, who death sustain'd, 
By which the saints their glory gain'd ; 

Of Love co-breathed the boundless Source. 
From which saints' love derives its force. 

Within the gracious shine 

Of the co-glorious Trine, 
The saints in happy mansions rest, 
Of all they can desire possess'd. 

Saints' bodies there the sun outvie 
Temper'd to feel the joys on high, 

Bright body and pure mind, 

In rapture unconfined, 
Capacities expand, till fit 
Deluge of Godhead to admit. 

In all-sufficient bliss they joy, 

Duration in sweet hymns employ ; 
With angels they converse, 
Their loves and joys rehearse, 

Taste suavities of Love immense, 

Of all delights full confluence. 






; 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

With God's own Son they reign co-heirs, 
Each saint with Him in glory shares, 
Like Godhead, happy, pure, 
Against all change secure, 
In boundless joys they sabbatise, 
Which Love Triune will eternise. 

By boundless Love, for souls refined, 

And joys unspeakable design'd, 
When I those joys imbibe, 
I then may them describe ; 

Joys to full pitch will hymn excite, 

When from sensation I endite. 



THE SEEN AND THE UNSEEN. 



Horatius Bonar. [On the Great Exhibition, 1851.] 



HA ! yon burst of crystal splendor, 
Sunlight, starlight, blent in one ; 
Starlight set in arctic azure, 

Sunlight from the burning zone ! 
Gold and silver, gems and marble, 

All creation's jewelry ; 
Earth's uncovered waste of riches, 
Treasures of the ancient sea. 

Heir of glory, 
What is that to thee and me ? 

4* .V 






^ 



82 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Iris and Aurora braided — 

How the woven colors shine ! 
Snow-gleams from an Alpine summit, 

Torch-light from a spar-roofed mine. 
Like Arabia's matchless palace, 

Child of magic's strong decree, 
One vast globe of living sapphire, 

Floor, walls, columns, canopy. 
Heir of glory, 

What is that to thee and me ? 

Forms of beauty, shapes of wonder, 

Trophies of triumphant toil ; 
Never Athens, Rome, Palmyra, 

Gazed on such a costly spoil. 
Dazzling the bewildered vision, 

More than princely pomp we see ; 
What the blaze of the Alhambra, 

Dome of emerald, to thee ? 
Heir of glory, 

What is that to thee and me ? 

Farthest cities pour their riches, 

Farthest empires muster here, 
Art her jubilee proclaiming 

To the nations far and near. 
From the crowd in wonder gazing, 

Science claims the prostrate knee ; 
This her temple, diamond-blazing, 

Shrine of her idolatry. 
Heir of glory, 

What is that to thee and me? 





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NATURE OF HEAVEN. 83 

Listen to her tale of wonder, 

Of her plastic, potent spell ; 
Tis a big and braggart story, 

Yet she tells it fair and well. 
She the gifted, gay magician, 

Mistress of earth, air, and sea ; 
This majestic apparition, 

Offspring of her sorcery. 
Heir of glory, 

What is that to thee and me ? 

What to that for which we're waiting 

Is this glittering earthly toy ? 
Heavenly glory, holy splendor, 

Sum of grandeur, sum of joy. 
Not the gems that time can tarnish, 

Not the hues that dim and die, 
Not the glow that cheats the lover, 

Shaded with mortality. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 

Not the light that leaves us darker, 

Nor the gleams that come and go, 
Not the mirth whose end is madness, 

Not the joy whose fruit is woe ; 
Not the notes that die at sunset, 

Not the fashion of a day ; 
But the everlasting beauty, 

And the endless melody. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 







4gg 





84 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

City of the pearl-bright portal ; 

City of the jasper wall ; 
City of the golden pavement ; 

Seat of endless festival. 
City of Jehovah, Salem, 

City of eternity, 
To thy bridal-hall of gladness 

From this prison would I flee. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 

Ah ! with such strange spells around me, 

Fairest of what earth calls fair, 
How I need thy fairer image, 

To undo the syren snare, 
Lest the subtle serpent-tempter 

Lure me with his radiant lie ! 
As if sin were sin no longer, 

Life were no more vanity. . 
Heir of glory, 

What is that to thee and me ? 

Yes, I need thee, heavenly city, 

My low spirit to upbear ; 
Yes, I need thee — earth's enchantments 

So beguile me with their glare ! 
Let me see thee, then these fetters 

Break asunder ; I am free ; 
Then this pomp no longer chains me ; 

Faith has won the victory. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 

■§i & 



yfty 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 85 

Soon where earthly beauty blinds not, 

No excess of brilliance palls, 
Salem, city of the holy, 

We shall be within thy walls ! 
There, beside yon crystal river, 

There, beneath life's wondrous tree, 
There, with naught to cloud or sever — 

Ever with the Lamb to be I 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 



MARTYRS' SONG. 



Christina G. Rossetti. 



W 



E meet in joy, though we part in sorrow ; 
We part to-night, but we meet to-morrow. 



Be it flood or blood the path that's trod, 
All the same it leads home to God : 

Be it furnace-fire voluminous, 

One like God's Son will walk with us. 

What are these that glow from afar, 
These that lean over the golden bar, 

Strong as the lion, pure as the dove, 
With open arms and hearts of love ? 

They the blessed ones gone before, 
They the blessed forevermore : 






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86 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Out of great tribulation they went 
Home to their Home of Heaven-content ; 

Through flood, or blood, or furnace fire, 
To the Rest that fulfils desire. 

What are these that fry as a cloud, 
With flashing heads and faces bowed, 

In their mouths a victorious psalm, 
In their hands a robe and a palm ? 

Welcoming Angels these that shine, 
Your own Angel, and yours and mine ; 

Who have hedged us both day and night 
On the left hand and on the right, 

Who have watched us both night and day, 
Because the Devil keeps watch to slay. 

Light above light, and Bliss beyond bliss, 
Whom words cannot utter, lo I Who is This ? 

As a King with many crowns He stands, 
And our names are graven upon His Hands ; 

As a Priest, with God-uplifted Eyes, 
He offers for us .His Sacrifice ; 

As the Lamb of God for sinners slain, 
That we too may live He lives again ; 

As our own Champion, behold Him stand 
Strong to save us at God's Right Hand. 







jfe 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

God the Father give us Grace 

To walk in the Light of Jesus' Face. 

God the Son give us a part 

In the hiding-place of Jesus' Heart. ' 

God the Spirit so hold us up 
That we may drink of Jesus' Cup. 

Death is short and Life is long ; 

Satan is strong, but Christ more strong. 

At His Word, Who hath led us hither, 
The Red Sea must part hither and thither ; 

At His Word, Who goes before us too, 
Jordan must cleave to let us pass through. 

Yet one pang searching and sore, 
And then Heaven for evermore ; 

Yet one moment awful and dark, 

Then safety within the Veil and the Ark ; 

Yet one effort by Christ His Grace, 
And then Christ forever Face to face. 

God the Father we will adore, 

In Jesus' Name, now and evermore : 

God the Son we will love and thank 
In this flood and on the further bank : 

God the Holy Ghost we will praise, 
In Jesus' Name, unto endless days . 








A. 




88 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

God Almighty, God Three in One, 
God Almighty, God Alone. 



WHEN NIGHTLY THROUGH THE SKY. 



From the Spanish of Luis de Leon. Translated by Archdeacon Churton. 



WHEN nightly through the sky 
I view the stars their files unnumbered leading, 
Then see the dark earth lie 
In deathlike trance, unheeding 
How Life and Time with those bright orbs are speed- 
ing : 



Strong love and equal pain 
Wake in my heart a fire with anguish burning ; 

The tear-drops fall like rain, 

Mine eyes to fountains turning, 
And my §ad voice pours forth its tones of mourning 



O Mansion of high state, 
' Bright Temple of bright Saints in beauty dwelling, 
The Soul, once born to mate 
With these, what force repelling 
Hath bound to earth, its light in darkness quelling ? 



<^ 






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NATURE OF HEAVEN. 89 

What mortal disaccord 
Hath exiled so from Truth the mind unstable? 

Why, of its blest reward 

Forgetful, lost, unable, 
Seeks it each shadowy fraud and guileful fable ? 



Man lies in slumber dead, 

Like one that of his danger hath no feeling, 
The while with silent tread 
Those restless orbs are wheeling, 

And as they fly his hours of life are stealing. 



O Mortals, wake and rise ; 

Think of the loss that on your lives is pressing; 
The Soul, that never dies, 
Ordained .for endless blessing, 

How shall it live false shows for Truth caressing 



Ah, raise your fainting eyes 
To that firm sphere where still new glory weareth. 

And scorn the low disguise 

The flattering world prepareth, 
And all the world's poor thrall hopeth or feareth. 



O what is all earth's round, 
Brief scene of man's proud strife and vain endeavor, 

Weighed with that deep profound, 

That tideless Ocean-river, 
That onward bears Time's fleeting forms forever? 







jtfg. 




go HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Once meditate, and see 
That fixed accord in wondrous variance given, 

The mighty harmony 

Of courses all uneven, 
Wherein each star keeps time and place in heaven. 

Who can behold that store 
Of light unspent, and not with very sighing 

Burst earth's frail bonds, and soar, 

With Soul unbodied flying, 
From this sad place of exile and of dying? 

There dwelleth sweet Content ; 
There is the reign of Peace ; there, throned in splendor, 

As one pre-eminent, 

With dove-like eyes so tender, 
Sits holy Love — honor and joy attend her. 

There is revealed whate'er 
Of Beauty thought can reach ; the source internal 

Of purest Light, that ne'er 

To darkness yields; eternal 
Bloom the bright flowers in clime forever vernal. 

7 here would my Spirit be, 
Those quiet fields and pleasant meads exploring, 

Where Truth immortally, 

Her priceless wealth outpouring, 
Feeds through the blissful vales the Souls of Saints 
adoring. 







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NATURE OF HEAVEN. 91 



WHAT SHALL WE BE? 



Anonymous. 



IT J HAT shall we be, and whither shall we go, 
V V When'the last conflict of our life is o'er, 
And we return, from wandering to and fro, 

To our dear home, through heaven's eternal door ? 
When we shake off the last dust from our feet, 

When we wipe off the last drop from our brow, 
And our departed friends once more shall greet, — 

The hope which cheers and comforts us below ! 

What shall we be, when we ourselves shall see, 

Bathed in the flood of everlasting light, 
And from all guilt and sin entirely free, 

Stand pure and blameless in our Maker's sight ? 
No longer from His holy presence driven, 

Conscious of guilt and stung with inward pain, 
But friends of God and citizens of heaven, 

To join the ranks of his celestial train ! 

What shall we be, when we drink in the sound 

Of heavenly music from the spheres above, 
When golden harps to listening hosts around 

Declare the wonders of redeeming love ? 
When, far and wide, through the resounding air. 

Loud Hallelujahs from the ransom'd rise. 
And holy incense, sweet with praise and prayer, 

Is wafted to the Highest through the skies ! 







M- 




92 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

What shall we be, when the freed soul shall rise 

With unrestrain'd and bold aspiring flight 
To Him, who by His wondrous sacrifice 

Hath open'd heaven and scatter'd sin's dark night ? 
When from the eye of faith the thin veil drops, 

Like wreaths of mist before the morning's rays, 
And we behold the end of all our hopes,* 

The son of God in full refulgent blaze ! 



ATHANATOS. 



H. Kirk White. 




AWAY with Death — away 
With all her sluggish sleeps and chilling damps, 

Impervious to the day, 
Where nature sinks into inanity. 

How can the soul desire 
Such hateful nothingness to crave, 

And yield with joy the vital fire, 
To moulder in the grave ! 

Yet mortal life is sad, 
Eternal storms molest its sullen sky ; 

And sorrows ever rife 
Drain the sacred fountain dry — • 

Away with mortal life ! 
But hail the calm reality, 
The seraph Immortality ! 
Hail the Heavenly bowers of peace ! 
Where all the storms of passion cease. 






NATURE OF HEAVEN. 93 

Wild Life's dismaying struggle o'er, 

The wearied spirit weeps no more ; 

But wears the eternal smile of joy, 

Tasting bliss without alloy. 

Welcome, welcome, happy bowers, 

Where no passing tempest lowers ; 

But the azure heavens display 

The everlasting smile of day ; 

Where the choral seraph choir, 

Strike to praise the harmonious lyre ; 

And the spirit sinks to ease, 

Lull'd by distant symphonies. 

Oh ! to think of meeting there 

The friends whose graves received our tear, 

The daughter loved, the wife adored, 

To our widow'd arms restored ; 

And all the joys which death did sever, 

Given to us again forever ! 

Who would cling to wretched life, 

And hug the poisonM thorn of strife ; 

Who would not long from earth to fly, 

A sluggish senseless lump to lie, 

When the glorious prospect lies 

Full before his raptured eyes? 








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94 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE EXILE'S VISION. 



Paul Gerhardt : Translated by John Kelly. 



BY John was seen a wondrous sight, 
A noble light, 
A picture very glorious: 
A multitude stood 'fore him there 
All bright and fair, 
On heav'nly plain victorious ; 
Their heart and mood 
Were full of good, 
That mortal man 
With gold ne'er can 
Procure, so high 'tis o'er us. 



Palm branches in their hands they bore 

They stood before 

The Lamb's throne, 'fore the Saviour ; 

Praise from their lips did ever flow, 

Their robes like snow ; 

Their song still higher ever, 

So sweetly rang ; 

God's thanks they sang, 

And in their song 

The holy throng 

Of angels joined ever. 







A 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 95 

"Who," said the wond'ring John, "are they 

In white array, 

Whom now I see before me?" 

" They are," said one from out the crowd, 

That round him stood, 

One of the elders hoary, 

" They're men, my son, 

Who fought and won 

The fight of faith, 

Despis'd the scath, 

Attain 'd the prize of glory 



" They're those who on the earth below, 

Long, long ago, 

Pass'd through great tribulation, 

Who for the honor of their Lord 

And of His word, 

And grief and all vexation, 

From blame ail free 

But patiently, 

Though smarting sore 

By God's help bore, 

O'ercame with exultation. 



" They wash'd their robes and made them white 

(Their hearts were right), 

In faith's bath them renewing, 

And they resisted evermore 

With all their pow'r 

Hell's art, it quite subduing, 






«. 




g6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Did aye deride 

Earth's pomp and pride, 

Chose Jesu's blood 

As their chief good, 

All other good eschewing. 



" And therefore with their doings, they 

Stand there for aye, 

Where God's fair temple's standing, 

The temple where they night and day 

Praise God for aye, 

His glorious name commending. 

There do they live 

With nought to grieve, 

From toil all free 

Joys taste and see, 

That never know an ending. 



" There in His dwelling sitteth God 

And spreads abroad 

His goodness as a cover, 

There with bliss manifold is bless'd 

In quiet rest, 

The wearied whose life's over ; 

What pleasure gives, 

The heart relieves, 

The longing stills, 

And the eye fills, 

In full bloom stands there ever. 






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NATURE OF HEAVEN. 97 

" No thirst, nor hunger there, no need ; 

The heav'nly bread 

All wants aye satisfieth ; 

And shineth there the sun no more 

In too great pow'r, 

Its light poor joy supplieth ; 

Heav'n's sun so bright 

And heart's delight, 

Is our great Lord 

The living Word, 

Who no good thing denieth.'' 



The Lamb His flock will ever feed 
E'en as they need, 
In pastures never wasting, 
He will them to the fountain bring. 
Whence ever spring 
Streams of life everlasting ; 
And certainly 
Ne'er rest will He, 
Till wash'd away 
All tears for aye 
Are, and His bliss we're tasting. 
5 






jfr 




n8 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THINGS UNSEEN AND UNHEARD. 



Giles Fletcher. 



HERE may the band that now in triumph shines, 
And that (before they were invested thus) 
In earthly bodies carried heavenly minds, 
Pitch round about in order glorious, 
Their sunny tents and houses luminous ; 
All their eternal day in songs employing, 
Joying their end without end of their joying, 
While their Almighty Prince destruction is destroying. 

Their sight drinks lovely fire in at their eyes, 

Their breath sweet incense with fine breath accloys, 

That on God's sweating altar burning lies ; 
Their hungry ears feed on the heavenly noise 
That angels sing to tell their untold joys ; 

Their understanding, naked truth, their wills, 

The all and self sufficient goodness fills, 

That nothing here is wanting but the want of ills. 

No sorrow now hangs clouding on their brow; 

No bloodless malady empales their face ; 
No age drops on their hairs his silver snow ; 

No nakedness their bodies doth embase ; 

No poverty themselves and theirs disgrace ; 
No fear of death the joy of life devours ; 
No unchaste sleep their precious time deflowers ; 
No loss, no grief, no change wait on their winged hours. 






A 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 99 

But now their naked bodies scorn the cold, 

And from their eyes joy looks and laughs at pain ; 

The infant wonders how he came so old, 

The old man how he came so young again ; 
Still resting, though from sleep they still refrain ; 

Where all are rich, and yet no gold they owe ; 

And all are kings, and yet no subjects know, 

All full, and yet no time they do on food bestow. 

About the holy city rolls a flood 

Of molten crystal, like a sea of glass, 
On which weak stream a strong foundation stood ; 
Of living diamonds the building was, 
That all things else, besides itself, did pass. 
Her streets, instead of stones, the stars did pave, 
And little pearls for dust it seemed to have, 
On which soft streaming manna, like pure snow, did 
wave. 

It is no flaming lustre made of light ; 

No sweet consent, or well-tuned harmony, 
Ambrosia, for to feast the appetite ; 

Or flowery odor mixed with spicery ; 

No soft embrace or pleasure bodily : 
And yet it is a kind of inward feast, 
A harmony that sounds within the breast, 
An odor, light, embrace, in which the soul doth rest. 

A heavenly feast no hunger can consume ; 

A light unseen, yet shines in every place ; 
A sound no time can steal ; a sweet perfume 

No winds can scatter ; an entire embrace 







A 




100 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

That no satiety can e'er unlace ; 
Ingraced into so high a favor there 
The saints with their beaupeers whole worlds outwear 
And things unseen do see, and things unheard do hear 

Ye blessed souls, grown richer by your spoil, 

Whose loss, though great, is cause of greater gains 
Here may your weary spirits rest from toil, 
Spending your endless evening that remains 
Among those white flocks and celestial trains 
That feed upon their Shepherd's eyes, and frame 
That heavenly music of so wondrous frame, 
Psalming aloud the holy honors of His name ! 



HARPS IN HEAVEN. 



Edward H. Bickersteth. 



AND at Oriel's signal came 
My father, bearing in his hand a harp 
Of simplest form, but manifold in tones 
Of musical modulations without end, 
And gave it to me, saying, " Take it, my son ; 
It is Heaven's workmanship, and made for thee." 
I took it, nothing loth ; and, though on earth 
In lute or harp my skill was nothing, then 
Immediately I felt the tremulous strings 
Responsive to my every thought, as when 
The wind in sportive or in pensive mood 
Wakens /Eolian music. Strung it was 





A- 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 01 

And pitch'd in most mysterious unison 
With my heart's sympathies ; for when I laid 
My ringers on its airy chords, straightway 
My very soul gush'd forth in melody, 
The harp and harper vibrating in tune ; 
While words, like echoes of an old refrain 
That heard in childhood, haunts our riper years, 
Broke in heaven's music from my lips. 



A HOME IN HEAVEN. 



William Hunter. 



A HOME in heaven! what a joyful thought, 
As the poor man toils in his weary lot ! 
His heart opprest, and with anguish driven, 
From his home below, to his home in heaven. 

A home in heaven ! as the sufferer lies 
On his bed of pain, and uplifts his eyes 
To that bright home ; what a joy is given, 
With the blessed thought of his home in heaven. 

A home in heaven ! when our pleasures fade, 
And our wealth and fame in the dust are laid; 
And strength decays, and our health is riven, 
We are happy still with our home in heaven. 

A home in heaven ! when the faint heart bleeds, 
By the Spirit's stroke, for its evil deeds ; 
Oh ! then what bliss in that heart forgiven, 
Does the hope inspire of a home in heaven. 







^ 




102 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

A home in heaven ! when our friends are fled 
To the cheerless gloom of the mouldering dead ; 
We wait in hope on the promise given ; 
We will meet up there in our home in heaven. 

A home in heaven ! when the wheel is broke, 
And the golden bowl by the terror-stroke ; 
When life's bright sun sinks in death's dark even, 
We will then fly up to our home in heaven. 

Our home in heaven ! oh, the glorious home ! 
And the Spirit, join'd with the bride, says " come ! 
Come, seek His face, and your sins forgiven, 
And rejoice in hope of your home in heaven ! 



INVITATIONS FROM HEAVEN. 

COME to the land of peace ! 
Come where the tempest hath no longer sway, 
The shadow passes from the soul away, 
The sounds of weeping cease! 

Fear hath no dwelling there ! 
Come to the mingling of repose and love, 
Breathed by the silent spirit of the dove 

Through the celestial air ! 

Come to the bright and blest, 
And crowned forever — 'midst the shining band, 
Gathered to heaven's own wreath from every land, 

Thy spirit shall find rest ! 







jfc 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 



IO3 



Thou hast been long alone ; 
Come to thy mother ! on the Sabbath shore, 
The heart that rocked thy childhood back once more 

Shall take its wearied one. 

In silence wert thou left, 
Come to thy sisters ! — joyously again 
All the home-voices, blest in one sweet strain, 

Shall greet their long bereft. 

Over thine orphan head 
The storm hath swept, as o'er a willow's bough ; 
Come to thy father ! — it is finished now ; 

Thy tears have all been shed. 

In thy divine abode 
Change finds no pathway, memory no dark trace ; 
And, O, bright victory! — death by love no place ! 

Come, spirit, to thy God ! 



MINISTER'S WELCOME TO HEAVEN. 



Edward H. Bickersteth. 



IN amaze 
I asked what meant such gratulation there, 
And one of many answered, " From thy mouth 
We heard of Jesus' love, and thine the hand 
That led us to His feet." It was enough ; 
For all the Parent and the Pastor woke 
Within me : all the holy memories 
Of bygone days flowed in a refluent tide 



T 





Jl 



^ 




104 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Over my soul once more. Some I had known 
From rosy dawn of childhood. . . 
Some I had shepherded, yea, many. And 
Some in after years had poured the burden 

Of a wounded spirit into mine 

And others, dying, heard me read of him 
Who on the cross for mercy cried to Christ ; 
Heard, and themselves believed. All these I knew, 
And quick as light their story flashed on me. 
But in that group of filial spirits came 
Many I knew not — part of that great store 
Of unsuspected treasure heaven conceals. 
And they too poured on me beatitudes. 



MY PLACE IN HEAVEN. 



John Mason. 



MY Jesus is gone up to heaven 
To get a place for me ; 
For 'tis His will, that, where He is, 
There should His servants be. 

Canaan I view from Pisgah's top, 
Of Canaan's grapes I taste : 

My Lord, who sends unto me here, 
Will send for me at last. 

I have a God that changeth not : 
Why should I be perplext ? 

My God, that owns me in this world. 
Will own me in the next. 






J& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 

Go fearless then, my soul, with God 

Into another room : 
Thou who hast walked with Him here 

Go, see thy God at home. 

My dearest friends they dwell above ; 

Them will I go to see : 
And all my friends in Christ below 

Will soon come after me. 



105 



NO STRANGER IN HEAVEN. 



Edward H. Bickersteth. 



I WAS no stranger in a strange land there : 
But rather as one who travel-worn and weary, 
Weary of wandering through many climes, 
At length returning homeward, eyes far off 
The white cliffs of his fatherland, and ere 
The laboring ship touches its sacred soil 
Leaps on the pier, while round him crowding press 
Children, and kith and friends, who in a breath 
Ask of his welfare, and with joyous tongues 
Pour all their love into his thirsty ear. 
5* 






& 




:06 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY. 



Matthew Prior. 



AS through the artist's intervening glass 
Our eyes observe the distant planets pass ; 
A little we discover, but allow 
That more remains unseen than art can show : 
So whilst our mind its knowledge would improve 
(Its feeble eye intent on things above), 
High as we may lift our reason up, 
By faith directed, and confirmed by hope : 
Yet we are able only to survey 
Dawnings of beams, and promises of day. 
Heaven's fuller effluence mocks our dazzled sight : 
Too great its swiftness, and too strong its light : 
But soon the 'mediate clouds shall be dispelled ; 
The sun shall then be face to face beheld, 
In all his robes, with all his glory on, 
Seated sublime on his meridian throne. 



RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN. 



Anonymous. 



W 



HEN we hear the music ringing 



In the bright celestial dome- 
When sweet angels' voices singing, 
Gladly bid us welcome home 





& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 10/ 

To the land of ancient story, 

Where the spirit knows no care 
In that land of life and glory — 

Shall we know each other there ? 

When the holy angels meet us, 

As we go to join their band, 
Shall we know the friends that greet us 

In that glorious spirit land ? 
Shall we see the same eyes shining 

On us, as in days of yore ? 
Shall we feel the dear arms twining 

Fondly round us, as before ? 

Yes, my earth-worn soul rejoices, 

And my weary heart grows light, 
For the thrilling angels' voices, 

And the angel faces bright, 
That shall welcome us in heaven, 

Are the loved ones long ago ; 
And to them 'tis kindly given 

Thus their mortal friends to know. 

O ye weary, sad and tossed ones, 

Droop not, faint not by the way ; 
Ye shall join the loved and just ones 

In that land of perfect day. 
Harp-strings touched by angel fingers ; 

Murmured in my rapturous ear ; 
Evermore their sweet song lingers : 

" We shall know each other there.'' 







j^ 




1 08 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



REMINDERS OF HEANEN. 



Anonymous. 



WHEN I gaze on the light of yon beautiful sky, 
And the curtains of azure unfolded on high ; 
Their glory and splendor recall to my thought 
The blissful inheritance Jesus hath bought : 
I fancy the portals of heaven appear, 
And I feel at the moment — My home is not here. 

When I see all around me the flowers so bright, 
Which God has implanted to ravish my sight ; 
I hail them as pledges of heavenly love, 
And think of the brighter ones blooming above : 
Their fragrance reminds me of hopes that are dear, 
And I love to remember — My home is not here. 

When I hear the glad song of the lark as she flies, 
Still warbling her notes as she mounts to the skies ; 
I think of the time when my heavenward flight 
Will, like hers, be directed to regions of light ; 
I shall sing as I leave every trouble and fear — 
My home is in heaven — My home is not here ! 

O land of enjoyment ! O home of my heart, 

What blessed delight can thy image impart ; 

In the midst of affliction, of sorrow, and grief, 

One thought of thy glory brings instant relief, 

And quickly the darkening clouds disappear, 

As the feeling steals o'er me — My home is not here. 






jfc 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. IO9 



REST IN HEAVEN. 



William B. Tappan. 



THERE is an hour of peaceful rest 
To mourning wanderers given ; 
There is a joy for souls distressed, 
A balm for every wounded breast ; 
'Tis found above — in heaven. 

There is a soft, a downy bed, 

'Tis fair as breath of even ; 
A couch for weary mortals spread, 
Where they may rest the aching head, 

And find repose — in heaven. 

There is a home for weary souls 

By sin and sorrow driven ; 
When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, 
Where storms arise, and ocean rolls, 

And all is drear — but heaven. 

There Faith lifts up her cheerful eye, 

To brighter prospects given, 
And views the temp-est passing by, 
The evening shadows quickly fly, 

And all serene — in heaven. 

There fragrant flowers immortal bloom, 

And joys supreme are given ; 
There rays divine disperse the gloom ; 
Beyond the confines of the tomb 

Appears the dawn of heaven. 






-^ : 




IIO HEAVEN IN SONG- 



SCORNING HEAVEN. 



John Milton. Speech of Belial. 



WHAT place can be for us 
Within heav'n's bound, unless heav'n's lord 
supreme 
We overpow'r! Suppose He should relent, 
And publish grace to all, on promise made 
Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
Stand in His presence humble, and receive 
Strict laws impos'd, to celebrate His throne 
With warbled hymns, and to His godhead sing 
ForcM hallelujahs ; while he lordly sits 
Our envied Sov'reign, and His altar breathes 
Ambrosial odors, and ambrosial flowers, 
Our servile off 'rings? This must be our task 
In heav 'n, this our delight ; how wearisome 
Eternity so spent, in worship paid 
To whom we hate ! 



MEDITATION OF HEAVEN. 



Isaac Watts. 



M 



" I will lift up Mine Eyes to the Hills." 

Y thoughts surmount these lower skies, 



And look within the veil : 
There springs of endless pleasure rise ; 
The waters never fail. 







&: 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 



Ill 



There I behold, with sweet delight, 
The blessed Three in One ; 

And strong affections fix my sight 
On God's incarnate Son. 

His promise stands forever firm ; 

His grace shall ne'er depart : 
He binds my name upon his arm, 

And seals it on his heart. 

Light are the pains that Nature brings 
How short our sorrows are, 

When, with eternal, future things, 
The present we compare ! 

I would not be a stranger still 

To that celestial place, 
Where I forever hope to dwell 

Near my Redeemer's face. 



COME UP HITHER. 



Edwin H. Nevin. 



"/~^OME up hither, come away," 

^^ Thus the ransomed spirits sin; 
Here is cloudless, endless day ; 
Here is everlasting Spring. 







jfe 




12 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Come up hither ; come and dwell 
With the living hosts above : 

Come, and let your bosoms swell 
With their burning songs of love. 

Come up hither; come and share 
In the sacred joys that rise, 

Like an ocean, everywhere 

Through the myriads of the skies. 

Come up hither; come and shine 
In the robes of spotless white. 

Palms and harps and crowns are thine : 
Hither, hither, wing your flight ! 

Come up hither, hither speed : 
Rest is found in heaven alone. 

Here is all the wealth you need : 

Come, and make this wealth your own. 



HEARTS UNITED. 



Albert Laighton. 




"That They may be One, even as We are One." 

THIS world is bright and fair, we know 
The skies are arched in glory ; 
The stars shine on, the sweet flowers blow, 
And tell their blessed story. 





*& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I 1 3 

But softer than the summer's breath, 

And fairer than its roses, 
Will be the clime afar, when Death 

The pearly gate uncloses, — 

The land where broken ties shall twine, 

And fond hearts will not sever ; 
Where love's pure light shall brighter shine, 

Forever and forever. 



OUR ABIDING CITY. 



John Kelly. 



WE'VE no abiding city here." 
This may distress the worldly mind ; 
But should not cost the saint a tear, 
Who hopes a better rest to find. 

" We've no abiding city here," — 

Sad truth, were this to be our home ; 

But let this thought our spirits cheer, 
'• We seek a city yet to come." 

" We've no abiding city here," 

We seek a city out of sight : 
Zion its name, the Lord is there, 

It shines with everlasting light. 

O sweet abode of peace a'nd love, 

Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest, — 
Had I the pinions of the dove, 

I'd fly to thee and be at rest. 







J& 




114 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



HASTENING HOME. 



John Burton. 



How short my time is ! : 



TIME is winging us away 
To our eternal home : 
Life is but a winter's day, — 

A journey to the tomb. 
Youth and vigor soon will flee, 

Blooming beauty lose its charms 
All that's mortal soon shall be 
Enclosed in Death's cold arms. 

Time is winging us away 

To our eternal home : 
Life is but a winter's day, — . 

A journey to the tomb. 
But the Christian shall enjoy 

Health and beauty soon above ; 
Far beyond the world's alloy, 

Secure in Jesus' love. 







=& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 1 5 



THE DISTANT SHORE. 



From Fraser's Magazine. 



U 



The land that is very far off." 

pon the shore 
Of Evermore, 
We sport, like children at their play 
And gather shells 
Where sinks and swells 
The mighty sea from far away. 

Upon that beach, 

Nor voice nor speech 
Doth things intelligible say ; 

But through our souls 

A whisper rolls, 
That comes to us from far away. 

Into our ears 

The voice of years 
Comes deeper, deeper, day by day : 

We stoop to hear, 

As it draws near, 
Its awfulness from far away. 

At what it tells, 

We drop the shells 
We were so fond of yesterday ; 

And pick no more 

Upon that shore, 
But dream of brighter, far away. 







_^g 




Il6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And o'er that tide, 

Far out and wide, 
The yearnings of our souls do stray : 

We long to go, 

We do not know 
Where it may be, but far away. 

The mighty deep 

Doth slowly creep 
Up on the shore where we did play ; 

The very sand, 

Where we did stand 
A moment since, swept far away. 

We'll trust the wave, 

And Him to save, 
Beneath whose feet as marble lay 

The rolling deep ; 

For He can keep 
Our souls, in that dim far away. 



HEAVEN AND EARTH CONTRASTED. 



Thomas Moore. 



" Great is your reward in heaven." 

THIS world is all a fleeting show, 
For man's illusion given. 
The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, 
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow : 
There's nothing true, but heaven. 







yfa/ 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 117 

And false the light on glory's plume 

As fading hues of even ; 
And love and hope and beauty's bloom' 
Are blossoms gathered for the tomb . 

There's nothing bright, but heaven. 

Poor wanderers of a stormy day, 

From wave to wave we're driven ; 
And fancy's flash, and reason's ray, 
Serve but to light the troubled way : 
There's nothing calm, but heaven. 



THE SPOTLESS ROBE. 



Thomas Moore. 



"Put on thy beautiful garments." 

THE golden palace of my God 
Towering above the clouds I see, 
Beyond the cherubs' bright abode, 
Higher than angels' thoughts can be. 

How can I in those courts appear, 
Without a wedding-garment on ? 

Conduct me, thou Life-giver, there, 
Conduct me to thy glorious throne, 

And clothe me with thy robes of light, 

And lead me through Sin's darksome night. 
My Saviour and my God ! 






.& 




Il8 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE PROMISED MANSIONS. 



Richard Cumberland. From his epic poem, Calvary. 



" I go to prepare a place for you." 

LET not your hearts be troubled : ye believe 
In God ; believe also in me, his Son. 
Doubt not but in the compass of the heavens 
My father will provide for all his saints 
Mansions of peace, seats of eternal bliss, 
Where spirits made perfect after death shall dwell, 
And rest from earthly toils : thither I go 
To seal your sure election, and prepare 
For you, my faithful servants, an abode, 
That, as in sorrow here, so there in bliss 
With me, your Lord, now dying for your sakes, 
Ye may surmount the grave, and ever live 
In heavenly communion undisturbed. 
Lament not, therefore, if I now depart, 
Your provident Precursor ; for ye know 
Whither I go, and also know the way. 






A 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I 19 



THE DEBT OF HEAVEN TO EARTH. 



Thomas H. Gill. 



LORD ! leadeth not this desert land 
To our bright home with Thee? 
Dost Thou not mean Thy pilgrim band 
The Golden Gates to see ? 

Yet may we carry to our home 

Gifts in the desert given ; 
Thou would'st not have Thy pilgrims come 

All empty to Thy Heaven. 

Bright Angels ! on your store alone 

We shall not need to live ; 
We bring you something of our own 

Our God's dear gifts we give. 

We bring the strength by Him conferred 

Unto the Heavenly Host ; 
We bring the shame for Him incurred 

To be our endless boast ; 

We bring the wounds on earth that bled 

To have sweet healing given ; 
We bring the tears on earth we shed 

To find them smiles in Heaven. 

Your burning love the flame we lend 

That here so humbly burned ; 
And with your awful love we blend 

The love on earth we learned. 







jgg. 




1 20 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

We bring you each endeavor fair 
That made earth's darkness shine ; 

Each triumph o'er the foe ye share, 
Each victory divine. 

Each precious, pure delight that made 

The Vale of Tears less sad, 
Doth help the joys that never fade, 

Doth make the angels glad. 

O happy Golden Hours below! 

Your glory hath not gone : 
The grateful years eternal flow 

More bright because ye shone. 

On earth we sing our heavenly songs, 

With holy fire we burn ; 
O Golden Harps ! O angel tongues ! 

Our strains ye too may learn. 

Dear Lord ! whose grace on earth we taste, 
Whose glory down doth come, 

Thou meanest not these gifts for waste, 
May we not bear them home ? 

May we not, richly-laden, make 
- The wealth of Heaven the more, 
And bringing gifts divine, partake 
The sweet celestial store ? 







)fr 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 121 



JOYFUL HASTE. 



William Hunter. 



JOYFULLY, joyfully onward I move, 
Bound to the land of bright spirits above ; 
Angelic choristers sing as I come, 
Joyfully, joyfully haste to thy home ! 
Soon with my pilgrimage ended below, 
Home to the land of bright spirits I go; 
Pilgrim and stranger no more shall I roam, 
Joyfully, joyfully resting at home. 

Friends, fondly cherished, have passed on before; 
Waiting, they watch me approaching the shore ; 
Singing to cheer me through death's chilling gloom 
Joyfully, joyfully haste to thy home. 
Sounds of sweet melody fall on my ear ; 
Harps of the blessed, your voices I hear ! 
Rings with the harmony heaven's high dome — 
Joyfully, joyfully haste to thy home. 

Death, w r ith thy weapons of war lay me low, 
Strike, king of terrors ! I fear not the blow ; 
Jesus hath broken the bars of the tomb ! 
Joyfully, joyfully will I go home. 
Bright will the morn of eternity dawn, 
Death shall be banished, his sceptre be gone ; 
Joyfully, then, shall I witness his doom, 
Joyfully, joyfully, safely at home. 

6 







jfe. 




122 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



HOME, SWEET HOME. 



Sir John Denham. 



MID scenes of confusion and creature complaints, 
How sweet to my soul is communion with 
saints ; 
To find at the banquet of mercy there's room, 
And feel in the presence of Jesus at home. 
Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home ! 
Prepare me, dear Saviour, for glory, my home. 

Sweet bonds that unite all the children of peace ! 
And thrice precious Jesus, whose love cannot cease ! 
Though oft from thy presence in sadness I roam, 
I long to behold thee in glory, at home. 
Home ! home ! etc. 

I sigh from this body of sin to be free, 
Which hinders my joy and communion with thee ; 
Though now my temptation like billows may foam, 
All, all will be peace, when I'm with thee at home. 
Home ! home ! etc. 

While here in the valley of conflict I stay, 
Oh give me submission, and strength as my day ; 
In all my afflictions to thee would I come, 
Rejoicing in hope of my glorious home. 
Home ! home ! etc. 







J^ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I 23 

Whate'er thou deniest, oh give me thy grace, 
The Spirit's sure witness, and smiles of thy face ; 
Endue me with patience to wait at thy throne, 
And find, even now, a sweet foretaste of home. 
Home ! home ! etc. 

I long, dearest Lord, in thy beauties to shine ; 
No more as an exile in sorrow to pine ; 
And in thy dear image arise from the tomb, 
With glorified millions to praise thee at home. 

Home! home ! sweet, sweet home ! 

Prepare me, dear Saviour, for glory, my home. 



FAITH'S CHOICE. 



Isaac Watts. 

WHAT sinners value I resign ; 
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine 
I shall behold thy blissful face, 
And stand complete in righteousness. 

This life's a dream, an empty show, 
But the bright world to which I go 
Hath joys substantial and sincere ; 
When shall I wake and find me there ! 

Oh, glorious hour! oh, blest abode ! 
I shall be near and like my God ; 
And flesh and sin no more control 
The sacred pleasures of the soul. 





jfc 




T24 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

My flesh shall slumber in the ground 
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound ; 
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise, 
And in my Saviour's image rise ! 



" LAND A-HEAD." 

" 1 AND a-head ! " its fruits are waving 
-1 — ' O'er the hills of fadeless green ; 
And the living waters laving 

Shores where heavenly forms are seen. 

Onward, bark ! the cape I'm rounding, 
See, the blessed wave their hands ; 

Hear the harps of God resounding 
From the bright immortal bands. 

There, let go the anchor, riding 

On this calm and silv'ry bay ; 
Seaward fast the tide is gliding, 

Shores in sunlight stretch away. 

Now we're safe from all temptation, 
All the storms of life are past ; 

Praise the Rock of our Salvation, 
We are safe at home at last ! 







xk 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 25 



HEAVEN'S DAWN. 



Thomas Gibbons. 



NOW let our souls, on wings sublime, 
Rise from the vanities of time, 
Draw back the parting veil, and see 
The glories of eternity. 

Born by a new celestial birth, 
Why should we grovel here on earth ? 
Why grasp at transitory toys, 
So near to heaven's eternal joys ? 

Shall aught beguile us on the road, 
When we are walking back to God ? 
For strangers into life we come, 
And dying is but going home. 

To dwell with God, to feel his love, 
Is the full heaven enjoy'd above ; 
And the sweet expectation now 
Is the young dawn of heaven below. 






126 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE SHADOWLESS. 



G. Robins. 



THERE is a land mine eye hath seen, 
In visions of enraptured thought, 
So bright, that all which spreads between 
Is with its radiant glories fraught. 

A land, upon whose blissful shore 

There rests no shadow, falls no stain ; 

There those who meet shall part no more, 
And those long parted meet again. 

Its skies are not like earthly skies, 

With varying hues of shade and light ; 
It hath no need of suns to rise 
To dissipate the gloom of night. 

There sweeps no desolating wind 
Across that calm, serene abode; 

The wanderer there a home may find 
Within the paradise of God. 



4 f 






4te 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I 27 



HEAVENLY CANAAN. 



Isaac Watts. 



THERE is a land of pure delight, 
Where saints immortal reign ; 
Infinite day excludes the night, 
And pleasures banish pain. 

There everlasting spring abides, 
And never-withering flowers ; 

Death, like a narrow sea, divides 
This heavenly land from ours. 

Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood 
Stand dressed in living green ; 

So to the Jews old Canaan stood, 
While Jordan rolled between. 

But timorous mortals start and shrink 

To cross this narrow sea, 
And linger shivering on the brink, 

And fear to launch away. 

Oh, could we make our doubts remove, 
Those gloomy doubts that rise, 

And see the Canaan that we love 
With unbeclouded eyes! — 






A 




128 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Could we but climb where Moses stood, 
And view the landscape o'er, 

Not Jordan's stream nor death's cold flood 
Should fright us from the shore. 



HOPE OF OUR HEARTS. 



Sir Edward Denny. 




HOPE of our hearts, O Lord, appear, 
Thou glorious Star of day ! 
Shine forth, and chase the dreary night, 
With all our tears, away. 

No resting-place we seek on earth, 

No loveliness we see ; 
Our eye is on the royal crown, 

Prepared for us by Thee. 

But, dearest Lord, however bright 

That crown of joy above, 
What is it to the brighter hope 

Of dwelling in Thy love ? 

What to the joy, the deeper joy, 

Unmingled, pure, and free, 
Of union with our living Head, 

Of fellowship with Thee ? 

This joy e'en now on earth is ours ; 

But only, Lord, above, 
Our hearts, without a pang, shall know 

The fullness of Thy love. 




A 



A 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 29 

There, near Thy heart, upon the throne, 

Thy ransomed bride shall see 
What grace was in the bleeding Lamb, 

Who died to make her free. 



THE WELCOME DAY. 



Isaac Watts. 



LO ! what a glorious sight appears 
To our believing eyes ! 
The earth and seas are passed away, 
And the old rolling skies. 

From the third heaven, where God resides, 

That holy, happy place, 
The new Jerusalem comes down, 

Adorned with shining grace 

Attending angels shout for joy, 

And the bright armies sing — 
" Mortals, behold the sacred seat 

Of your descending King: 

" The God of glory down to men 

Removes His blest abode ! 
Men, the dear objects of His grace, 

And He the loving God : 

" His own kind hand shall wipe the tears 

From every weeping eye ; 
And pains, and groans, and griefs, and fears, 

And death itself, shall die." 
6* 






A 




130 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

How long, dear Saviour, oh, how long 
Shall this bright hour delay ? 

Fly swifter round, ye wheels of time, 
And bring the welcome day ! 



I THITHER LIFT MY EYES. 



Benjamin Beddome. 



THERE is a world of perfect bliss 
Above the starry skies ; 
Oppressed with sorrows and with sins, 
I thither lift my eyes. 

'Tis there the weary are at rest, 

And all is peace within ; 
The mind, with guilt no more oppressed, 

Is tranquil and serene. 

Discord and strife are banished thence. 

Distrust and slavish fear ; 
No more we hear the pensive sigh, 

Or see the falling tear. 

Farewell to earth and earthly things ; 

In vain ye tempt my stay : 
Come, angels, spread your joyful wings, 

And bear my soul away ! 





4&fc 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 3 



PARADISE RESTORED. 



Charles Wesley. 



JESUS, to thy dear wounds we flee, 
We seek thy bleeding side, 
Assured that all who trust in thee 
Shall evermore abide. 

Then let the thundering trumpet sound, 

The latest lightning glare ; 
The mountains melt ; the solid ground 

Dissolve as liquid air : 

The huge, celestial bodies roll, 

Amidst that general fire ; 
And shrivel as a parchment scroll, 

And all in smoke expire. 

Sublime upon his azure throne, 
He speaks — tlje Almighty Word ; 

Has fiat is obeyed ! 'tis done ; 
And Paradise restored ! 

So be it ! let this system end, 
This ruined earth and skies ; 

The New Jerusalem descend, 
The New Creation rise. 







m 




132 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



ARISE, FLY UP, AND RUN. 



Isaac Watts. 



ARISE, my soul ! fly up, and run 
Through every heavenly street ; 
And say there's nought below the sun 
That's worthy of thy feet. 

There, on a high, majestic throne, 
Th' Almighty Father reigns, 

And sheds His glorious goodness down 
On all the blissful plains. 

Bright, like a sun, the Saviour sits, 

And spreads eternal noon ; 
No evenings there, nor gloomy nights, 

To need the feeble moon. 

Amidst those ever-shining skies 

Behold the Sacred Dove ; 
While banished sin and sorrow flies 

From all the realms of love. 

But oh, what beams of heavenly grace 
Transport them all the while ! 

Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face, 
And love in every smile ! 





-^ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 33 

Jesus, and when shall that dear day, 

That joyful hour appear, 
When I shall leave this house of clay, 

To dwell among them there? 



WRECK OF THE UNIVERSE. 



Mather Byi.es. 



WHEN wild confusion wrecks the air, 
And tempests rend the skies ; 
Whilst blended ruin, clouds and fire 
In harsh disorder rise ; — 

Safe in my Saviour's love I'll stand, 

And strike a tuneful song ; 
My harp all trembling in my hand, 

And all inspired my tongue. 

I'll shout aloud, " Ye thunders, roll, 

And shake the sullen sky ; 
Your sounding voice, from pole to pole, 

In angry murmurs try : 

" Let the earth totter on her base, 
And clouds the heavens deform ; 

Blow, all ye winds, from every place, 
And rush the final storm ! " 

Come quickly, blessed Lord, appear — 

Bid the swift chariot fly ; 
Let angels tell Thy coming near, 

And snatch me to the sky. 







jfc 




134 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Around Thy wheels, in the glad throng, 

I'd bear a joyful part ; 
All hallelujah on my tongue — 

All rapture in my heart. 



WE SEEK THE PROMISED SOIL. 



Anna L^titia Barbauld. 



OUR country is Immanuel's ground — 
We seek that promised soil ; 
The songs of Zion cheer our hearts, 
While strangers here we toil. 

Oft do our eyes with joy o'erflow, 

And oft are bathed in tears ; 
Yet naught but heaven our hopes can raise, 

And naught but sin our fears. 

The flowers that spring along the road 

We scarcely stoop to pluck ; 
We walk o'er beds of shining ore, 

Nor waste one wishful look. 

We tread the path our Master trod ; 

We bear the cross He bore ; 
And every thorn that wounds our feet 

His temples pierced before. 






-3& 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 35 



"O FOR THE PEARLY GATES." 



Cecil Francis Alexander. 



OH, for the pearly gates of heaven! 
Oh for the golden floor ! 
Oh, for the Sun of Righteousness, 
That setteth nevermore ! 

The highest hopes we cherish here, 
How soon they tire and faint ! 

How many a spot defiles the robe 
That wraps the earthly saint ! 

Oh, for a heart that never sins ! 

Oh, for a soul washed white ! 
Oh, for a voice to praise our King, 

Nor weary day nor night ! 

Here faith is ours, and heavenly hope. 
And grace to lead us higher. 

But there are perfectness and peace, 
Beyond our best desire. 

Oh, by Thy love and anguish, Lord, 

And by Thy life laid down, 
Grant that we fail not of Thy grace, 
Nor fail to reach our crown ! 





A 




136 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THERE IS A FOLD WHENCE NONE CAN 
STRAY. 



Bishop East. 



THERE is a fold whence none can stray 
And pastures ever green, 
Where sultry sun, or stormy day, 
Or night is ever seen. 



x fc> j 



Far up the everlasting hills 
In God's own light it lies ; 

His smile its vast dimensions fills 
With joy that never dies. 

One narrow vale, one darksome wave, 
Divides that land from this : 

I have a Shepherd pledged to save 
And bear me home to bliss. 

Soon at His feet my soul will lie 
In life's last struggling breath ; 

But I shall only seem to die, 
I shall not taste of death. 

Far from this guilty world to be 
Exempt from toil and strife — 

To spend eternity with Thee — 
My Saviour this is life ! 






j& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 37 



NAME EVER DEAR TO ME. 



Latin Hymn, 8th Cent. In Eckington Col. 1790. 



JERUSALEM, my happy home, 
Name ever dear to me ! 
When shall my labors have an end 
In joy and peace, in thee ? 

When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls 
• And pearly gates behold ? 
Thy bulwarks with salvation strong, 
And streets of shining gold ? 

Oh when, thou city of my God, 

Shall I thy courts ascend, 
Where congregations ne'er break up, 

And Sabbaths have no end ? 

There happier bowers than Eden's bloom, 

Nor sin nor sorrow know : 
Blest seats ! through rude and stormy scenes 

I onward press to you. 

Why should I shrink at pain and woe, 

Or feel at death dismay ? 
I've Canaan's goodly land in view, 

And realms of endless day. 






jgy 




I38 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there 
Around my Saviour stand ; 

And soon my friends in Christ below 
Will join the glorious band. 

Jerusalem, my happy home ! 

My soul still pants for thee ; 
Then shall my labors have an end, 

When I thy joys shall see. 



THE OTHER SIDE. 



Anonymous. 



WE dwell this side of Jordan's stream, 
Yet oft there comes a shining beam 
Across from yonder shore ; 
While visions of a holy throng, 
And sound of harp and seraph song, 
Seem gently wafted o'er. 

The other side ! oh, happy place, 
W r here saints in joy past times retrace,. 

And think of trials gone ; 
The veil withdrawn, they clearly see, 
That all on earth had need to be, 

To bring them safely home. 

The other side ! oh charming side ! 
Along its banks still waters glide, 

And many a loved one waits ; 
Across the stream they call to me, — 
" Fear not — we stay to welcome thee 

Beside the pearly gates." 







^% 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 39 

The other side ! the other side ! 
Who would not brave the swelling tide 
Of earthly toil and care, 
To wake one day, when life is past. 
Over the stream, at home at last, 
With all the bless'd ones there ? 



CHILDREN OF THE KINGDOM. 



Anne Shepherd. 

AROUND the throne of God in heaven 
Thousands of children stand ; 
Children whose sins are all forgiven, 
A holy, happy band. 

In flowing robes of spotless white 

See every one arrayed - 
Dwelling in everlasting light, 

And joys that never fade. 

What brought them to that world above, 
That heav'n so bright and fair, 

Where all is peace, and joy, and love ; — 
How came those children there ? 

Because the Saviour shed his blood, 

To wash away their sin ; 
Bathed in that pure and precious flood, 

Behold them white and clean ! 






&. 




140 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And many sought the Saviour's grace, 
On earth they loved his name ; 

So now they see his blessed face, 
And stand before the Lamb. 



WHAT THEN? 



Anonymous. 



AFTER the Christian's tears, 
After his fights and fears, 
After his weary cross, — 
All things below but loss, — 
What then ? what then ? 

Oh, then, a holy calm, 
Resting on Jesus' arm ; 
Oh, then, a deeper love 
For the pure home above. 

After this holy calm, 
This rest on Jesus' arm ; 
After this deepened love 
For the pure home above, 
What then ? what then ? 

Oh, then, a work for him, 
Perishing souls to win : 
Then Jesus' presence near, 
Death's darkest hour to cheer. 






& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 141 

And when the work is done, 
When the last soul is won, 
When Jesus' love and power 
Have cheered the dying hour, 
What then? what then? 



THE FAVORED OF THEIR JUDGE. 



Edward Young. ["The Last Day," Book III.] 



THE favored of their Judge in triumph move 
To take possession of their thrones above ; 
To crop the roses of immortal youth, 
And drink the fountain-head of sacred truth ; 
To swim in seas of bliss : to strike the string, 
And lift the voice, to their almighty King ; 
To lose eternity in grateful lays, 
And fill heaven's wide circumference with praise. 



NEW HEAVENS AND NEW EARTH. 



J. Walther, 1557. Translated by Catherine Winkworth. 



HOW fain my joyous heart would sing 
That lovely summer-time, 
When God reneweth everything 
In His celestial prime ; 






jgfc 




142 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

When He shall make new heavens and earth, 

And all the creatures there 
Shall spring from out that second birth 

All-glorious, pure, and fair. 

The perfect beauty of that sphere 

No mortal tongue may speak ; 
We have no likeness for it here, 

Our words are far too weak ; 
And we must wait till we behold 

The hour of judgment true. 
That to the soul shall all unfold 

What God is, and can do. 

For God ere long will summon all 
. Who e'er on earth were born ; 
This flesh shall hear the trumpet's call 

And live again that morn. 
And when in Christ His Son we wake, 

These skies asunder roll, 
And all the bliss of heaven shall break 

Upon the raptured soul. 

And He will lead the white-robed throng 

To His fair Paradise, 
Where from the marriage-feast the song 

Of endless praise shall rise ; 
And from His fathomless abyss 

Of perfect love and truth, 
Shall flow perpetual joy and bliss, 

In never-ending youth. 






4&K: 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I43 

Ah God, now lead me of Thy love 

Through this dark world aright ; 
Lord Christ, defend me lest I rove 

Or lies delude my sight; 
And keep me steadfast in the faith 

Till these dark days have ceased, 
All ready still in life or death 

For Thy great marriage-feast. 

And herewith will I end the song 

Of that fair summer-time ; 
The blossoms shall burst out ere long 

Of heaven's eternal prime, 
The year begin, forever new ; 

God grant us then on high 
To see our vision here made true, 

And eat the fruits of joy ! 



AWAKE, THE NIGHT IS FLYING. 



From the German of Philip Nicolai, 1598. By Catherine Winkworth. 



\li /'AKE, awake, for night is flying, 
V V The watchmen on the heights are crying 

Awake, Jerusalem, at last ! 
Midnight hears the welcome voices. 
And at the thrilling cry rejoices : 

Come forth, ye virgins, night is past ! 






A 



144 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The Bridegroom comes, awake, 
Your lamps with gladness take ; 
Hallelujah ! 
And for His marriage-feast prepare, 
For ye must go to meet Him there. 

Zion hears the watchmen singing, 
And all her heart with joy is springing, 
She wakes, she rises from her gloom ; 
For her Lord. comes down all-glorious, 
The strong in grace, in truth victorious. 
Her Star is risen, her Light is come ! 
Ah come, Thou blessed Lord, 
O Jesus, Son of God, 
Hallelujah ! 
We follow till the halls we see 
Where Thou hast bid us sup with Thee. 

Now let all the heavens adore Thee, 
And men and angels sing before Thee 

With harp and cymbal's clearest tone 
Of one pearl each shining portal, 
Where we are with the choir immortal 
Of angels round Thy dazzling throne. 
Nor eye hath seen, nor ear 
Hath yet attain'd to hear 
What there is ours, 
But we rejoice, and sing to Thee 
Our hymn of joy eternally. 




^ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I45 



THE GREAT CITY OF GOD. 



T. Buchanan Read. 



" Heaven lies about us in our infancy." — Wordsworth. 

ERE the rose and the roseate hues of the dawn. 
With the dews of my youth, were all scattered 
• and gone ; 
Ere the cloud, like the far-reaching wing of the night, 
Had shut out the glory of God from my sight, 
I saw a wide realm in the azure unfold, 
Where the fields nodded towards me their flowers of 

gold; 
And the soft airs sailed o'er them, and drop't from 

above, 
As if shed from innumerous pinions of love ; 
There were trees with broad boles steeped in perfume 

and dew, 
With their full breasts for ever leaned up to the blue, 
And within their wide bosoms the winds seemed to 

rest 
With the calm like the sleep of a soul that is blest ; 
Or, if any light rustle stole out from their limbs, 
'Twas the murmurous music of delicate hymns, 
As if some dear angel sat singing within 
To a spirit just won from the regions of sin. 
There were streams which seemed born but in slum- 

b'rous bowers, 
Stealing down, like a dream, through the sleep of the 

flowers,- — 
7 





■^jy. 



146 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



So pure was the azure they won from the height, 

The blue hills seemed melting'to rivers of light ; 

And within their fair realm, where but angels have 

trod, 
I beheld, as I thought, the great ClTY OF GOD ! 
All its high walls were pierced with no engines of 

Death ; 
Nq moat, with its dull pool, lay stagnant beneath : 
The last bolts, I ween, the stout heart has to fear, 
Are pointed and sped from Death's citadel here ; 
And the last hungry moat the pure soul has to brave, 
Ere it passes the portal to bliss, is the grave ! 
There the wide wall went East till it dimmed to the, 

view, 
And the wide wall went West till it passed into blue ; 
And the broad gates stood open, inviting the way, 
Like the hands of the Lord to his children astray. 
There were high towers, climbing still dazzlingly 

higher, 
Till each shone like a fixed guiding pillar of fire ; 
And the angels who watched on their summits afar, 
So lessened by distance, gleamed each as a star : 
And the great dome that templed the Father in light, 
Seemed to swell and to circle, and to swell on the 

sight 
As some angel, who cleaves his bright way 'mid the 

spheres, 
Beholds the blue dome of the earth as he nears. 
There was music — my soul unto memory yields, 
And hears the low sounds floating over the fields ; 
But, alas ! not as then, with its rapturous desire, 
Like some bird that sits hushed by the song of a choi 





4te 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 147 

It melted and flowed o'er the walls and the towers, 
And sweet as if breathed from the lips of the flowers, — 
As if the bright blossoms, with loving accord, 
Had risen and sang to the praise of the Lord ! 
Then I thought 'mid that music to wander and wait 
For the loved ones, just there by the palm at the gate. 
To begin the great life that no Death can o'ertake, 
And to dream the great dream that no tumult can 

break, 
In the broad world of Beauty, of flowers, and bliss. 
But, alas ! I awoke where the thorns grow in this : 
And the walls of Death's citadel now intervene, 
And the grave, like a moat, yawns here darkly be- 
tween : 
But still, through the mists and the shadows of night, 
I can follow the stars on those pillars of light ; 
And I know the great gates stand there open and 

broad, 
Inviting the way to the ClTY OF GOD. 



THE TRANSPARENT THRONE. 



Jeremy Taylor. 



O BEAUTEOUS God, uncircumscribed treasure 
Of an eternal pleasure ! 
Thy throne is seated far 
Above the highest star, 
Where thou prepar'st a glorious place 
Within the brightness of thy face 




u&| 




I48 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

For every spirit 

To inherit 
That builds his hopes upon thy merit, 
And loves thee with a holy charity. 
What ravished heart, seraphic tongue, or eyes 

Clear as the morning's rise, 

Can speak, or think, or see, 

That bright eternity, 
Where the great King's transparent throne 
Is of an entire jasper stone? 

There the eye 

O' th' chrysolite, 

And a sky 
Of diamonds, rubies, chrysoprase, 
And, above all thy holy face, 
Makes an eternal clarity 
When thou thy jewels up dost bind ; that day 

Remember us, we pray, 

That where the beryl lies, 

And the crystal, 'bove the skies, • 
There thou may'st appoint us place 
Within the brightness of thy face, 

And our soul 

In the scroll 
Of life and blissfulness enroll, 
That we may praise thee to eternity : 

Allelujah ! 









NATURE OF HEAVEN. 149 



THE BEAUTIFUL CITY, ZION THE FREE. 

BEAUTIFUL Zion ! city renowned ! 
Through the universe wide thy praise shall re- 
sound 
When straight from thy God thou descendest, the 

bride, 
For thy husband in garments of glory arrayed ; 
Oh glorious thy beauty, by prophets foretold, 
Thy gates of fair pearls, thy streets of pure gold ! 
To dwell in the city mine may it be — 
The beautiful city, Zion the free ! 

Beautiful Zion ! the hope of thy rest 

Is a balm for the weary and sorrow-bound breast ; 

From the bars of affliction, and struggling with sighs, 

Sweet prayers for thy coming in breathings arise ; 

Eternal the joys in thy palaces found ; 

Forever the song of the saved shall resound ; 

To dwell in the city mine may it be — 

The beautiful city, Zion the free. 

Beautiful Zion ! desire of the earth ! 

No sorrow nor sighing in thee shall have birth ; 

Prisoners of hope, here with burdens oppressed, 

How long they to enter thy portals of rest ! 

Thy rivers of pleasure eternally roll, 

Anointing with gladness each blood-ransomed soul : 

To dwell in the city mine may it be — 

The beautiful city, Zion the free ! 






■^jsy. 




T50 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



JOYFUL WORDS, WE MEET AGAIN. 



From the German, by J. Montgomery. 



JOYFUL words, — we meet again ! 
Love's own language, comfort darting 
Through the souls of friends at parting ! 
Life in death — we meet again ! 

While we walk this vale of tears, 

Compassed round with care and sorrow, 
Gloom to-day and storm to-morrow, 

" Meet again" our bosom cheers. 

Far in exile when we roam, 

O'er our lost endearments weeping, 
Lonely, silent vigils keeping, 

" Meet again" transports us home. 

When this weary world is past, 
Happy they whose spirits soaring, 
Vast eternity exploring, 

" Meet again" in heaven at last. 







NATURE OF HEAVEN. I 5 I 




AN ECHO OF HEAVEN. 



George Herbert. — 1593-1632. 



"The Lamb is the Light thereof." 

OH ! who will show me those delights on high ? 
Echo.— I. 
Thou, Echo ? Thou art mortal, all men know. 

Echo. — No. 
Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves ? 

Echo. — Leaves. 
And are there any leaves that still abide ? 

Echo. — Bide. 
What leaves are they? Impart the matter wholly. 

Echo. — Holy. 
Are holy leaves the echo, then, of bliss ? 

Echo. — Yes. 
Then tell me, what is that supreme delight ? 

Echo. — Light. 
Light to the mind : what shall the will enjoy ? 

Echo. — Joy. 
But are there cares and business with the pleasure ? 

Echo. — Leisure. 
Light, joy, and leisure ! but shall they persevere ? 

Echo. — Ever. 







J& 



152 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



SONGS OF THE BLESSED. 



From Hymns Ancient and Modern. 



Salvation to Our God which sitteth upon the Throne, and to the Lamb." 

O HEAVENLY Jerusalem 
Of everlasting halls ! 
Thrice blessed are the people 
Thou storest in thy walls. 

Thou art the golden mansion 
Where saints forever sing, — 

The seat of God's own chosen, 
The palace of the King. 

There God forever sitteth 

Himself of all the Crown ; 
The Lamb the Light that shineth, 

And never goeth down. 

Naught to this seat approacheth 
Their sweet peace to molest : 

They sing their God forever, 
Nor day nor night they rest. 

Sure hope doth thither lead us ; 

Our longings thither tend : 
May short-lived toil ne'er daunt us 

For joys that cannot end. 






.»t§£ 



NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 53 



THE LAND OF PROMISE. 



Thomas Olivers. 



THE God of Abraham praise, 
Who reigns enthroned above, 
Ancient of everlasting days, 

And God of love ; 
Jehovah, great I AM ! 

By heaven and earth confest, 
I bow, and bless the sacred name, 
Forever blest. 

The God of Abraham praise, 

At whose supreme command 
From earth I rise, and seek the joys 

At his right hand ; 
I all on earth forsake, 

Its wisdom, fame and power, 
And him my only portion make, 

My shield and tower. 

The God of Abraham praise, 

Whose all-sufficient grace 
Shall guide me through this pilgrimage 

In all his ways ; 
He calls a worm his friend, 

He calls himself my God ; 
And he shall save me to the end, 

Through Jesus' blood. 





^h/ 



154 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

He by himself hath sworn, 

I on his oath depend ; 
I shall, on eagles' wings upborne, 

To heaven ascend ; 
I shall behold his face, 

I shall his power adore, 
And sing the wonders of his grace 

For evermore. 

Though nature's strength decay, 

And earth and hell withstand, 
To Canaan's bound I urge my way 

At his command ; 
The watery deep I pass, 

With Jesus in my view, 
And through the howling wilderness 

My way pursue. 

The goodly land I see, 

With peace and plenty blest, 
A land of sacred liberty 

And endless rest. 
There milk and honey flow, 

And oil and wine abound, 
And trees of life forever grow, 

With mercy crowned. 

There dwells the Lord our King, 
The Lord our righteousness ; 

Triumphant o'er the world and sin, 
The Prince of peace 







^^ : 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I 55 

On Zion's sacred height 

His kingdom still maintains, 
And glorious, with His saints in light, 

Forever reigns. 

He keeps His own secure, 

He guards them by His side ; 
Arrays in garments white and pure 

His spotless bride ; 
With streams of sacred bliss, 

With groves of living joys, 
With all the fruits of Paradise, 

He still supplies. 

Before the Three in One 

They all exulting stand, 
And tell the wonders He hath done 

Through all their land ; 
The listening spheres attend, 

And swell the growing fame, 
And sing, in songs which never end, 

The wondrous name. 

The God who reigns on high 

The great archangels sing, 
And " Holy, holy, holy," cry, 

" Almighty King!" 
Who was, and is the same, 

And evermore shall be ; 
Jehovah, Father, great I AM, 

We worship Thee. 







^|w 




156 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Before the Saviour's face 

The ransomed nations bow, 
O'erwhelmed at His almighty grace, 

Forever new ; 
He shows His prints of love, 

They kindle to a flame, 
And sound, through all the world above, 

The slaughtered Lamb. 

The whole triumphant host 
Give thanks to God on high ; 

Hail, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
They ever cry ; 

Hail, Abraham's God and mine, 
I join the heavenly lays ; 

All might and majesty be Thine, 
And endless praise. 



THERE IS NO MORE SEA. 



Fysh. 




WHEN tempests toss, and billows roll, 
And lightnings rend from pole to pole, 
Sweet is the thought to me, 
That one day it shall not be so ; 
In the bright world to which I go 
The tempest shall forget to blow ; 
There shall be no more sea. 





A 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. I 57 

My little bark has suffered much 
From adverse storms ; nor is she such 

As once she seemed to be ; 
But I shall shortly be at home, 
No more a mariner to roam ; 
When once I to the port am come, 

There will be no more sea. 

Then let the waves run mountain high. 
Confound the deep, perplex the sky, — 

This shall not always be ; 
One day the sun will brightly shine 
With life, and light, and heat divine ; 
And when that glorious light is mine, 

There will be no more sea. 

My Pilot tells me not to fear, 
But trust entirely to His care, 

And He will guarantee, 
If only I depend on Him, 
To land me safe, in His good time, 
In yonder purer, happier clime, 

Where shall be no more sea. 





,^ : 




1*8 heaven in song. 



WHERE THE BLIND SEE. 



Jessie Glenn. 



OH, I hear them tell of a canopy fair, 
That stretches its blue wing far up in the air 
They say it is gemmed with the stars of night, 
That sparkle and gleam in the pale moonlight ; 
But when I look up all is darkness to me, 
For I cannot see ! I cannot see ! 

I hear of the flowers that round me bloom, 
And my spirit finds joy in their sweet perfume ; 
# The rose and the clematis surely are fair, 
For feeling can tell me that beauty is there ; 
But those lovely tints are not painted for me, 
For I cannot see ! I cannot see ! 

The zephyr's sweet wing rustles over me now, 
For I feel its soft breath fan the curls on my brow ; 
Hark ! it speaks to me too, in its own sweet way ; 
Oh, would I might teel it, ere passing away ! 
I will touch it just once — but where can it be ? 
Oh, I cannot see! I cannot see! 

The rays of the sun, which they tell me are bright ; 
I feel on my cheek, though a stranger to sight ; 
While music's low tones gently steal on my ear, 
And while pining to see it I scarcely can hear : 
But music and sunbeams are nothing to me, 
For I cannot see ! I cannot see ! 






-A 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 1 59 

The look of affection, how grateful to some ! 

And, caught from its beams, what fond feelings must 

come ! 
Oh, would that its form could but dawn on my mind ! 
But a glance from a loved one is not for the blind; 
Oh, why must this world be all darkness to me ? 
Why may I not see ? why not see ? 

Then is there no joy for the sightless one ? say, 
Must the beauties of earth all unseen pass away ? 
Then I will up to a bright world above, 
Where all shall be happy and peaceful in love, 
And there from this darkness my eyes shall be free, 
For then I shall see ! I shall see ! 



WHERE THE DEAF HEAR. 



James Montgomery. 



TO me, though neither voice nor sound 
From earth or air may come, 
Deaf to the world that brawls around, 
The world to me is dumb : 

Yet may the quick and conscious eye 

Assist the slow, dull ear ; 
Light can the signs of thought supply, 

And with a look I hear. 

The song of birds, the water's fall, 

Sweet tones and grating jars, 
Hail, tempest, wind, and thunder, all 

Are silent as the stars — 






YJy 



1 60 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The stars that on their tranquil way, 

In language without speech, 
The glory of the Lord display, 

And to all nations preach. 

Now, though one outward sense be sealed, 

The kind remaining four, 
To teach me needful knowledge, yield 

Their earnest aid the more. 




Yet hath my heart an inward ear, 
Through which its powers rejoice ; 

Speak, Lord, and let me love to hear 
Thy Spirit's still, small voice. 

So when the Archangel from the ground 
Shall summon great and small, 

The ear now deaf shall hear that sound, 
And answer to the call. 



ASCEND, BELOVED, TO THE JOY. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



ASCEND, beloved, to the joy ; 
The festal day has come ; 
To-night the Lamb doth feast his own, 
To-night he with his bride sits down, 
To-night puts on the spousal crown, 
In the great upper room. 






& 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. l6l 

Ascend, beloved, to the love ; 

This is the day of days ; 
To-night the bridal song is sung, 
To-night ten thousand harps are strung, 
In sympathy with heart and tongue, 

Unto the Lamb's high praise. 

The festal lamps are lighting now 

In the great- marriage-hall ; 
By angel-hands the board is spread ; 
By angel-hands the sacred bread 
Is on the golden table laid ; 

The King His own doth call. 

The gems are gleaming from the roof, 

Like stars in night's round dome ; 
The festal wreaths are hanging there, 
The festal fragrance fills the air, 
And flowers of heaven, divinely fair, 

Unfold their happy bloom. 

Long, long deferred, now come at last 

The Lamb's glad wedding-day ; 
The guests are gathering to the feast, 
The seats in heavenly order placed, 
The royal throne above the rest ; 

How bright the new array ! 

Sorrow and sighing are no more ; 

The weeping hours are past ; 
To-night the waiting will be done, 
To night the wedding robe put on, 
The glory and the joy begun ; 

The crown has come at last. 









162 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Without, within, is light, is light ; 

Around, above, is love, is love ; 
We enter, to go out no more ; 
We raise the song unsung before ; 
We doff the sackcloth that we wore ; 

For all is joy above. 

Ascend, beloved, to the life ; 

Our days of death are o'er ; 
Mortality has done its worst ; 
The fetters of the tomb are burst ; 
The last has now become the first, 

Forever, evermore. 

Ascend, beloved, to the feast ; 

Make haste, thy day is come ; 
Thrice blest are they the Lamb doth cal 
To share the heavenly festival 
In the new Salem's palace-hall, 

Our everlasting home. 



THE UNKNOWN COUNTRY. 



By Dinah Maria Mulock Craik. 



" \ T THERE is the unknown country? 

V V I whispered sad and slow — 
" The strange and awful country 

To which I soon must go, must go, 

To which I soon must go ?" 






^^ 




NATURE OF HEAVEN. 163 

Out of the unknown country 

A voice sang soft and low. 
" O pleasant is that country, 

And sweet it is to go, to go, 

And sweet it is to go. 

" Along the shining country 

The peaceful rivers flow ; 
And in that wondrous country 

The tree of life does grow, does grow, 

The tree of life does grow. 

Ah then, into that country 

Of which I nothing know, 
The everlasting country, 

With willing heart I go, I go, 

With willing heart I go. 



OPEN IS THE STARRY HALL. 



From the Latin, by Williams. 



OPEN is the starry hall ; 
Hear ye ? 'tis the Bridegroom's call ! 
Holy virgins, one and all, 

Ready stand, 
For the heavenly festival 
Is at hand ! 






iti 




164 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Come at last the nuptial day, 
Tears forever passed away ; 
Fled the prison-house, the clay, 

And the thrall ; 
God forever your sure stay, 

And your all ! 

In His presence is the store, 
Purest joys for evermore, 
And the fountain flowing o'er ; 

No more night, 
Safe upon the happy shore 

Of the light ! 

What was royalty's short flower, 
Or the triumph of an hour ? 
What fleet pleasure's fading bower 

And control ? 
God's own presence is the dower 

Of the soul ! 

Wondrous, glorious mystery, 
When the soul from flesh is free ! 
Bond of sweetness which shall be 

When the heart 
Joined is to Deity, 

N'er to part ! 





yk? 





THE HEAVENLY STATE. 



Ye are come unto Mount Zion, and unto the city of the living God, the 

heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, and to God the 

judge of all, and to the'-spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the 
mediator of the new covenant. — Heb. 12 : 22-24. 

An inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved 
in heaven for you. — 1 Peter 1 : 4. 

And I, John, saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God, out of 
heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. — Rev. 21 : 2. 

In thy presence is fulness of joy ; at thy right hand are pleasures forevermore. 
— Ps. 16 : 11. 





=& 




THE HEAVENLY STATE 



THE HOLY CHURCH INVISIBLE. 



Lyra Apostolica. 



THE holy Jerusalem 
From highest heaven descending, 
Is crowned with a diadem 
Of angel bands attending: — 
The Living City built on high, 
Light with celestial jewelry ! 

She comes the Bride, from Heaven's gate, 
In nuptial new adorning, 

To meet the Immaculate 
Like coming of the morning. 
Her streets of purest gold are made — 
Her walls, a diamond palisade. 

There with pearls the gates are bright 
Upon that Holy Mountain ; 

And thither come forth day and night, 
Who in the Living Fountain 
Have washed their robes from earthly stain, 
And borne below Christ's lowly chain. 
8 







■itf- 




1 68 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

By the hand of the Unknown, 
The living stones are moulded 

To a glorious shrine All One, 
Full soon to be unfolded : 
The building wherein God doth dwell. 
The Holy Church Invisible. 

Glory be to God, who laid 
In heaven the foundation ; 

And to the Spirit who hath made 
The walls of our salvation. 
To Christ Himself, its Corner Stone ; 
Be glory to the Three in One. 



THE SEAT OF GLORY. 



Charles Drummond. 



IF with such passing beauty, choice delights, 
The Architect of this great round, did frame 
This palace visible, short lists of fame, 
And silly mansion of but dying wights; 
How many wonders, what amazing lights, 
Must that triumphing Seat of Glory claim, * 

That doth transcend all this All's vastly heights, 
Of whose bright sun, ours here is but a beam ! 
O blest abode ! O happy dwelling-place ! 
Where visibly th' Invisible doth reign ; 
Blest people, who do see true Beauty's face, 
With whose far shadows, scarce He earth doth deign 
All Joy is but annoy, all concord strife, 
Matched with your endless bliss and happy life. 







J# 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 69 



IN BRIDAL BEAUTY DREST. 



J. S. B. MONSELL. 



And I John saw the Holy City, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of 
heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. — Rev. xxi. 2. 

JERUSALEM, the holy! 
Jerusalem the blest ! 
From highest heav'n descending 

In bridal beauty drest : 
Bride of the Lamb ! thy glory, 

The light of God alone, 
Shines through thee clear as crystal, 
And like a jasper stone. 

Thy walls are great and glorious ; 

Twelve pearls are thy twelve gates, 
By every gate an angel 

For holy service waits : 
And names thereon are written, 

Angelic hands inscribe 
The tribes of Israel's children, 

On every pearl a tribe. 

And Twelve are thy foundations, 

All precious stones most fair, 
The names of the Apostles 

Are ever in them there : 






jte 




170 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Of pure gold is the city, 
And golden is the street, 

Like to clear glass transparent 
Beneath the saved ones' feet. 

And therein is no temple, 

No place apart for prayer, 
For the Lord Almighty, and 

The Lamb thy temple are : 
No need of sun to lighten, 

No need of moon to shine, 
Thy sunshine is God's glory, 

The Lamb thy Light Divine. 

The nations of the saved 

Do walk there in thy light, 
Thy gates by day unclosed, 

Within thy walls no night : 
The kings of earth their glory, 

The queens their state do bring, 
And lay them down in homage 

Before the glorious King. 

There shall in no wise enter 

The things that do defile, 
That work abomination, 

And spoil God's truth with guile. 
But those whose names are written 

In the Lamb's Book of Life, 
They only shall be in thee. 

Thou spotless Bride and Wife. 







jfe. 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 7] 

Jerusalem the holy ! 

My Spirit longs to be 
Within thy walls of jasper, 

Thy gates of pearl to see ; 
And through the sunless City 

To walk thy streets of gold, 
And in thy moonless beauty 

God's glory to behold. 

Give me, O Lord, the patience 

To labor and endure, 
And, that I may behold Thee, 

Give me a heart that's pure : 
Write Thine own Name upon it, 

That, after earth's long strife, 
My name may be found written 

In the Lamb's Book of Life. 



FOREVER WITH THE LORD. 



James Montgomery. 



FOR ever with the Lord," 
Amen. So let it be ; 
Life from the dead is in that word 

'T is immortality. 
Here in the body pent, 

Absent from Him I roam ; 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
A day's march nearer home. 







$k 




172 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

My father's house on high, 

Home of my soul, how near, 
At times, to faith's aspiring eye, 

The golden gates appear ! 
Ah, how my spirit faints 

To reach the land I love ; 
The bright inheritance of saints, 

Jerusalem above. 

Yet doubts still intervene, 

And all my comfort flies ; 
Like Noah's dove I flit between 

Rough seas and stormy skies. 
Anon the clouds depart, 

The winds and waters cease ; 
While sweetly, o'er my gladdened heart, 

Expands the bow of peace. 

" Forever with the Lord ! " 

Father, if 't is Thy will, 
The promise of Thy gracious word, 

E'en here, to me fulfill. 
Be Thou at my right hand, 

So shall I never fail : 
Uphold me, and I needs must stand ; 

Fight, and I shall prevail. 

So, when my latest breath 
Shall rend the vail in twain, 

By death 1 shall escape from death, 
And life eternal gain. 







-A. 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 173 

Knowing " as I am known," 

How shall I love that word, 
And oft repeat before the throne, 

" Forever with the Lord ! " 



PARADISE MUST FAIRER BE. 



From the German of Friedrich Ruckert.* 



OH, Paradise must fairer be 
Than any spot below ! 
My spirit pines for liberty ; 
Now let me thither go ! 

In Paradise, forever clear, 

The stream of love is flowing, 

For every tear that I've shed here 
A pearl therein is glowing. 

In Paradise alone is rest ; 

Joy breathing, woe-dispelling ; 
A heavenly wind fans every breast 

Within that happy dwelling. 

For every wounding thorn below, 

A rose shall blossom there ; 
And sweeter flowers than earth can show 

Shall twine around my hair. 

And every joy, that, budding died, 

Shall open there in bloom ; 
And Spring, in all her flowery pride, 

Shall waken from the tomb. 







_ ^JM 




174 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And all the joys shall meet me there 
For which my heart was pining, 

Like golden fruit in gardens fair, 
And flowers forever shining. 

My youth, that fled so soon away, 
And left me sad, decaying, 

Shall there, be with me every day 
With bright wings round me playing. 

All hopes, all wishes, all the love 
I sighed for, pined for ever, 

Shall bloom around me there above, 
And last with me forever ! 



KNOW YE THE LAND? 



From the German, by Dr. Mills. 



KNOW ye the land ? — On earth 'twere vainly 
sought 
To which the heart in sorrows turns its thought ; 
Where no complaint is heard — tears never flow — 
The good are blest — the weak with vigor glow, — 
Know ye it well ? 

For this, for this 
All earthly wish or care, my friends, dismiss ! 







A 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 75 

Know ye the way — the rugged path of thorns? 
His lagging progress there, the traveller mourns ; 
He faints, he sinks, — from dust he cries to God — 
" Relieve me, Father, from the weary road ! " 
Know ye it well? 

It guides, it guides, 
To that dear land, where all we hope abides. 

Know ye that Friend ? — In Him a man you see ; 
Yet more than man, more than all men is He ; 
Himself before us trod the path of thorns, 
To pilgrims now His heart with pity turns. 
Know ye Him well? 

His hand, His hand 
Will safely bring us to that Father- Land. 



THAT SHALL BE FOR THEE AND ME. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



WHAT to that for which we're waiting, 
Is this glittering, earthly toy? 
Heavenly glory, holy splendor, 

Sum of grandeur, sum of joy! 
Not the gems that Time can tarnish, 

Not the hues that dim and die ; 
Not the glow that cheats the lover, 
Shaded with mortality. 

Heir of glory, 
That shall be for thee and me ! 
8* 





V 





y6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Not the light that leaves us darker, 

Not the gleams that come and go ; 
Not the mirth whose end is madness, 

Not the joy whose fruit is woe ; 
Not the notes that die at sunset, 

Not the fashion of a day, 
But the everlasting beauty, 

And the endless melody : 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 

City of the pearl-bright portal, 

City of the jasper wall, 
City of the golden pavement, 

Seat of endless festival ; 
City of Jehovah, Salem ! 

City of Eternity ! 
To thy bridal halls of gladness, 

From this prison would I flee ! 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 

Ah ! with such strange spells around me, 

Fairest of what earth calls fair, 
How I need thy fairer image 

To undo the syren snare ! 
Lest the subtle serpent-tempter 

Lure me with his radiant lie ; 
As if sin were sin no longer, 

Life were no more vanity! 
Heir of glory, 

What is that to thee and me? 






x£&. 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 77 

Yes, I need thee, heavenly city, 

My low spirit to upbear ; 
Yes, I need thee ; earth's enchantments 

So beguile me with their glare. 
Let me see thee, then these fetters 

Break asunder : I am free ! 
Then this pomp no longer chains me, 

Faith has won the victory. 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 

Soon, where earthly beauty blinds not, 

Nor excess of brilliance palls, 
Salem, City of the Holy, 

We shall be within thy walls ! 
There beside yon crystal river, 

There, beneath Life's wondrous tree, 
There with naught to cloud or sever. 

Ever with the Lamb to be ! 
Heir of glory, 

That shall be for thee and me ! 



HIGH IN YONDER REALMS OF LIGHT. 



Dr. Thomas Raffles. 



HIGH in yonder realms of light, 
Far above these lower skies, 
Fair, and exquisitely bright, 

Heaven's unfading mansions rise. 






A 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Built of pure and massy gold, 
Strong and durable are they. 

Decked with gems of worth untold, 
Subjected to no decay. 

Glad within these blest abodes 

Dwell the raptured saints above, 
Where no anxious care corrodes, 

Happy in Immanuel's love ; 
Once, indeed, like us below, 

Pilgrims in this vale of tears, 
Torturing pain, and heavy wo, 

Gloomy doubts, distressing fears, 

These, alas, full well they knew, 

Sad companions of their way ; 
Oft on them the tempest blew 

Through the long and cheerless day. 
Oft their vileness they deplored ; 

Wills perverse, and hearts untrue, 
Grieved they could not love their Lord, 

Love Him as they wished to do. 

Oft the big, unbidden tear, 

Stealing down the furrowed cheek, 
Told, with eloquence sincere, 

Tales of wo they could not speak ; 
But these days of weeping o'er, 

Past this scene of toil and pain, 
They shall know distress no more, 

Never, never weep again. 






A 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 79 

'Mid the chorus of the skies, 

'Mid the angelic lyres above, 
Hark, their songs melodious rise, 

Songs of praise to Jesus' love. 
Happy spirits ! ye are fled 

Where no grief can entrance find, 
Lulled to rest the aching head, 

Soothed the sorrows of the mind. 

All is tranquil and serene, 

Calm and undisturbed repose ; 
There no cloud can intervene, 

There no angry tempest blows. 
Every tear is wiped away ; 

Sighs nomore shall heave the breast, 
Night is lost in endless day, 

Sorrow in eternal rest. 



WINTER BRAMING— SUMMER FLAMING. 



[The following is a metrical translation of a Latin hymn attributed to Augustine.] 



\ T WINTER braming — Summer flaming, 

V V There relax their blustering, 
And sweet roses ever blooming 

Make an everlasting Spring. 
Lily blanching, crocus blushing, 

And the balsam perfuming. 






4J|£ 




1 80 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There nor waxing moon, nor waning 
Sun, nor stars in courses bright, 

For the Lamb to that glad city 
Shines an everlasting light : 

There the daylight beams for ever, 
All unknown are time and night. 

For the saints in beauty beaming, 

Shine in light and glory pure, 
Crowned in triumph's flushing honors, 

Joy in unison secure, 
And in safety tell their battles, 

And their foes' discomfiture. 

Here they live in endless being, 

Passingness has passed away. 
Here they bloom, they thrive, they flourish, 

For decayed is all decay ; 
Lasting energy hath swallowed 

Darkling death's malignant sway. 



JERUSALEM THE GOLDEN. 



Gerald Massey. 



JERUSALEM the Golden, 
I languish for one gleam 
Of all thy glory folden 

In distance and in dream ! 
My thoughts, like palms in exile, 

Climb up to look and pray 
For a glimpse of that dear Country 
That lies so far away. 






jfe : 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. l8: 

Jerusalem the golden, 

Methinks each flower that blows, 
And every bird a-singing, 

Of thee some secret knows ! 
I know not what the Flowers 

Can feel, or Singers see, 
But all these summer raptures 

Are prophecies of thee. 

Jerusalem the golden 

When Sunset's in the west, 
It seems thy gate of glory, 

Thou City of the Blest ! 
And Midnight's starry torches, 

Through intermediate gloom. 
Are waving with their welcome 

To thy Eternal Home. 

Jerusalem the Golden ! 

Where loftily they sing. 
O'er pain and sorrows olden 

For ever triumphing ! 
Lowly may be thy portal, 

And dark may be the door, 
The Mansion is immortal — 

God's palace for His poor. 

Jerusalem the Golden ; 

There all our Birds that flew, — 
Our Flowers but half-unfolden, 

Our Pearls that turn'd to dew, — 






J& 




182 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And all the glad life-music 

Now heard no longer here, 
Shall come again to greet us 

As we are drawing near. 

Jerusalem the Golden ; 

I toil on day by day ; 
Heart-sore each night, with longing 

I stretch my hands and pray 
That midst thy leaves of healing 

My soul may find her nest, 
Where the Wicked cease from troubling, 

The Weary are at rest. 



JERUSALEM, THY GLORIOUS WALLS. 



John Matthew Meyfart. A translation in the original metre. 



John Matthew Meyfart, the author of this hymn, was a Lutheran theologian of 
the first part of the seventeenth century. He was born at Wallwinkel in Thuringia, 
November 9, 1590. Meyfart pursued his studies at Jena and Wittenberg. He wrote 
many able works, especially on doctrinal and polemical theology, and held various 
offices of the highest importance. The closing years of his life were spent as " Pro- 
fessor of the Augsburg Confession," and Pastor and Senior of the Ministerium at 
Erfurt, where he died, January 26, 1642. 

JERUSALEM, high tower, thy glorious walls. 
Would God I were in thee ! 
My heart hath gone where thy fair beauty calls, 
And dwells no more in me ; 






Jl 



A 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 83 

Far over the hill and mountain, 

Far over the plain and dell, 
On wings of rapture soaring, 

It bids this world farewell ! 

O day of joy, and hour of pure delight — 

How long wilt thou delay? 
When peacefully my soul may take its flight, 
And leave this load of clay, 
In perfect trust reposing 

On God's- Almighty hand, 
Who faithfully shall bring it 
Home to its Fatherland. 

Lo ! from the tomb, up to the clouds of heaven, 

It instantly shall soar, 
When, hushed in death, its last farewell is given 
To earth, now seen no more ; 
Elijah's fiery chariot 

In triumph it shall ride, 
Upborne by angel armies, 
That fly on every side. 

The gates of pearl now open wide to me, 

* Thou City of the blest ; 
To me who oft have longed and prayed for thee, 
And thy refreshing rest, 
Ere sighs, and tears, and sorrow, 

Ere pain, and grief, and woe, 
Were changed to this rejoicing, 
That all thy children know. 







A 





184 ' HEAVEN IN SONG. 

What shining host is this that comes to me, 

Drawn up in bright array? 
His chosen ones, with palms of victory, 
His joy and crown are they. 
These Jesus sends to meet me, 

To calm my doubts and fears ; 
From far they smile and greet me, 
In this dark vale of tears. 

And now behold these Prophets, Priests, and Kings, 

And Martyrs noble band, 
Who bore the Cross, and dared the torturings 
Of tyrants to withstand ; — 
See then in glory floating, 
In freedom every where, 
And swift as glittering sunbeams, 
Move radiant through the air. 

In Paradise, among the saints above, 

New pleasures I shall know, 
With joy divine shall my triumphant love 
In songs of praise o'erflow ; 
Shall join the full hosannas 

That echo all around, 
And mighty hallelujahs 
That ever there resound. 

Clear trumpet tones, and harps with golden strings, 

Those countless choirs employ, 
So loud and sweet, heaven's living temple rings, 

And trembles with the joy : — 






jgj% : 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. l8 = 



Ten thousand times ten thousand, 

A sea that has no shore, 
Whose praise in thundering billows 

Rolls on forever more. 



O MOTHER DEAR, JERUSALEM 



We transfer the following judicious criticism upon this old masterpiece of 
hymnology, from the work of William C. Prime, entitled, O Mother dear, Jeru- 
salem ! " The authorship of the hymn in English has been commonly attributed to 
David Dickson, a Scotch clergyman of the Seventeenth Century. A careful exam- 
ination of the authorities, as well as those cited by Dr. Bonar, leads to the con- 
viction that we are indebted to Dickson for the present form of the hymn, and 
probably for a considerable portion of the verses. But portions of the hymn had 
earlier existence in. our language, and it is manifest that this song is of earlier origin 
than the time of Dickson, who was born about A. d. 1583, and died in a. d. 1662. It 
seems probable, on a critical examination of the hymn, that it has received contri- 
butions from various hands ; additions, which are mostly translations from the 
Fathers or from mediaeval Latin hymns, having been made by one and another au- 
thor. So entirely diverse is the style of different stanzas that this theory alone can 
explain it, and it is possible that David Dickson only put into shape and polished 
a little the work of his devout predecessors. This, however, is certain, that to the 
noble Church of Scotland we owe this hymn in its present state." 



O MOTHER dear, Jerusalem ! 
When shall I come to thee? 
When shall my sorrows have an end — 

Thy joys when shall I see ? 
O happy harbor of God's saints ! 

O sweet and pleasant soil ! 
In thee no sorrows can be found, 
No grief, no care, no toil. 







-it^ 




1 86 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

In thee no sickness is at all, 



No hurt nor any sore ; 
There is no death nor ugly sight, 

But life for evermore. 
No dimmish clouds o'ershadow thee, 

No cloud nor darksome night ; 
But every soul shines as the sun, 

For God himself gives light. 

There lust or lucre cannot dwell, 

There envy bears no sway; 
There is no hunger, thirst, or heat, 

But pleasure every way. 
Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 

Would God I were in thee ! 
Oh that my sorrows had an end, 

Thy joys that I might see ! 

No pains, no pangs, no grieving grief, 

No woful wight is there ; 
No sigh, no sob, no cry is heard — 

No well-away, no fear. 
Jerusalem the city is 

Of God our King alone ; 
The Lamb of God the light thereof 

Sits there upon His throne. 

Ah God ! that I Jerusalem 
With speed may go behold ! 

For why? the pleasures there abound 
With tongue cannot be told. 









4te 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 8; 

Thy turrets and thy pinnacles, 

With carbuncles do shine, 
With jasper, pearl, and chrysolite, 

Surpassing pure and fine. 

Thy houses are of ivory, 

Thy windows crystal clear, 
Thy streets are laid with beaten gold — 

There angels do appear. 
Thy walls are made of precious stones, 

Thy bulwarks diamond square, 
Thy gates are made of Orient pearl — 

O God, if I were there ! 

Within thy gates no thing can come 

That is not passing clean ; 
No spider's web, no dirt, no dust, 

No filth may there be seen. 
Jehovah, Lord, now come away, 

And end my grief and plaints ; 
Take me to Thy Jerusalem, 

And place me with Thy saints, 

Who there are crowned with glory great, 

And see God face to face ; 
They triumph still and aye rejoice — 

Most happy is their case. 
But we that are in banishment, 

Continually do moan ; 
We sigh, we mourn, we sob, we weep — 

Perpetually we groan. 








A- 



1 88 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Our sweetness mixed is with gall, 

Our pleasure is but pain, 
Our joys not worth the looking on — ■ 

Our sorrows aye remain. 
But there they live in such delight, 

Such pleasure and such play, 
That unto them a thousand years 

Seem but as yesterday. 

O rny sweet home, Jerusalem ! 

Thy joys when shall I see ? 
Thy King sitting upon His throne, 

And thy felicity ! 
Thy vineyards and thy orchards are 

So wonderful and fair, 
And furnished with trees and fruit, 

Most beautiful and rare. 

Thy gardens and thy goodly walks, 

Continually are green ; 
There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers, 

As no where else are seen. 
There cinnamon and sugar grow, 

There nard and balm abound ; 
No tongue can tell, no heart can think, 

The pleasures there are found. 

There nectar and ambrosie spring — 

There musk and civet sweet ; 
There many a fair and dainty drug 

Are trod down under feet. 




f 





^ 



THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 89 

Quite through the streets, with pleasant sound, 

The flood of life doth flow ; 
Upon the banks, on every side, 

The trees of life do grow. 

These trees each month yield ripened fruit — 

For evermore they spring ; 
And all the nations of the world 

To thee their honors bring. 
Jerusalem, God's dwelling-place, 

Full sore I long to see ; 
Oh that my sorrows had an end, 

That I might dwell in thee! 

There David stands, with harp in hand, 

As master of the queir ; 
A thousand times that man were blessed 

That might his music hear. 
There Mary sings Magnificat, 

With tunes surpassing sweet ; 
And all the virgins bear their part, 

Singing about her feet. 

Te Deum doth St. Ambrose sing, 

St. Austin doth the like; 
Old Simeon and Zacharie 

Have not their songs to seek. 
There Magdalene hath left her moan, 

And cheerfully doth sing, 
With all blest saints whose harmony 

Through every street doth ring. 






& 



I90 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 

Thy joys fain would I see ; 
Come quickly, Lord, and end my grief, 

And take me home to Thee ! 
Oh print Thy name in my forehead, 

And take me hence away, 
That I may dwell with Thee in bliss, 

And sing Thy praises aye ! 

Jerusalem, thrice happy seat ! 

Jehovah's throne on high ! 
O sacred city, queen, and wife 

Of Christ eternally ! 

comely queen, with glory clad, 
With honor and degree, 

All fair thou art, exceeding bright — 
No spot there is in thee. 

1 long to see Jerusalem, 

The comfort of us all ; 
For thou art fair and beautiful — 

No ill can thee befall. 
In thee, Jerusalem, I say, 

No darkness dare appear; 
No night, no shade, no winter foul — 

No time doth alter there. 

No candle needs, no moon to shine, 
No glittering stars to light ; 

For Christ, the King of Righteousness, 
There ever shineth bright. 







& 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. I9I 

The Lamb unspotted, white and pure, 

To thee doth stand in lieu 
Of light — so great the glory is 

Thine heavenly King to view. 

He is the King of kings, beset 

In midst His servants' sight ; 
And they, His happy household all 

Do serve Him day and night. 
There, there the queir of angels sing; 

There the supernal sort 
Of citizens, which hence are rid 

From dangers deep, do sport. 

There be the prudent prophets all, 

The apostles six and six, 
The glorious martyrs in a row, 

And confessors betwixt. 
There doth the crew of righteous men 

And matrons all consist ; 
Young men and maids that here on earth 

Their pleasures did resist. 

The sheep and lambs that hardly 'scaped 

The snares of death and hell, 
Triumph in joy eternally, 

Whereof no tongue can tell ; 
And though the glory of each one 

Doth differ in degree, 
Yet is the joy of all alike 

And common, as we see. 






;tfjgg 



192 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There love and charity do reign, 

And Christ is all in all, 
Whom they most perfectly behold 

In joy celestial. 
They love, they praise — they praise, they love 

They " holy, holy," cry ; 
They neither toil, nor faint, nor end, 

But laud continually. 

Oh happy thousand times were I, 

If, after wretched days, 
I might with listening ears conceive 

Those heavenly songs of praise, 
Which to the eternal King are sung 

By happy wights above — 
By saved souls and angels sweet, 

Who love the God of Love.! - 

Oh passing happy were my state, 

Might I be worthy found 
To wait upon my God and King, 

His praises there to sound ; 
And to enjoy my Christ above, 

His favor and His grace, 
According to His promise made, 

Which here I interlace. 

" O Father dear," quoth He, " let them 

Which Thou hast put of old 
To me, be there where, lo, I am, 

Thy glory to behold ; 






j&. 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 1 93 

Which I with Thee before the world 

Was made, in perfect wise, 
Have had ; from whence the fountain great 

Of glory doth arise." 

Again : " If any man will serve 

Then let him follow me ; 
For where I am, be thou, right sure, 

There shall my servant be." 
And still : " If any man love me, 

Him loves my Father dear ; 
Whom I do love, to him myself 

In glory will appear." 

Lord, take away my misery, 

That there I may behold 
With Thee in Thy Jerusalem, 

What here cannot be told. 
And so in Zion see my King, 

My Love, my Lord, my All ; 
Whom now as in a glass I see, 

There face to face I shall. 

Oh ! blessed are the pure in heart, 

Their Sovereign they shall see ; 
And the most holy heavenly host, 

Who of His household be ! 
O Lord, with speed dissolve my bands, 

These gins and fetters strong ; 
For I have dwelt within the tents 

Of Kedar overlong ! 
13 






=& 




T94 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Yet search me, Lord, and find me out 

Fetch me Thy fold unto, 
That all Thy angels may rejoice. 

While all Thy will I do. 
mother dear, Jerusalem ! 

When shall I come to thee ? 
When shall my sorrows have an end — 

Thy joys when shall I see ? 

Yet once again I pray Thee, Lord, 

To quit me from all strife, 
That to Thine hill I may attain 

And dwell there all my life, 
With cherubims and seraphims 

And holy souls of men, 
To sing Thy praise, O God of Hosts ! 

For ever, and Amen ! 



THE GATES OF GOLD. 



Gerard Moultrie. 



THIRSTS my weary spirit 
For the springs of life, 
Yearns my soul for freedom 

From earth's toil and strife ; 
Soul and spirit, longing 
To cast off their load, 
Wait the revelation 
Of the sons of GOD. 




A 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. I95 

Who can tell the glory 

Vast and manifold, 
Which shall beam resplendent 

Round the gates of gold ? 
Who can tell the radiance 

Of the realms of light, 
Fathomless, eternal, 

Endless, infinite ? 

Smile the sunlit meadows, 

Bright with joys untold 
Round about the portals 

Of the gates of Gold : 
There no frosts may wither, 

Winter storms are still 
Where God reigns for ever 

On His holy hill. 

Everlasting springtime 

Warms the verdant sod, 
Bright with myriad wild-flowers 

Round the feet of God ; 
Summer sun ne'er scorches, 

Autumn leaves ne'er fall 
Where the saints of JESUS 

Hold their festival. 

Down the cedarn alleys 

Past the Holy spring, 
Where the bees' low murmur 

Faints upon the wing, 





A 




I96 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Pass the Saints of JESUS 
Whom His voice hath told 

To come bravely to Him 
Through the gates of Gold. 

There the Virgin Mother 

At the gate shall stand, 
With her virgin lily 

Blooming in her hand : 
Lilies grow all round her — 

Lilies fair to see, 
But of all the lilies 

Fairest far is she. 



Radiant, inviting, 

Lovely, lily-souled, 
She shall go before them 

Through the gates of Gold ; 
And the choirs of Virgins 

Round her feet are met, 
Bright are those twelve star-beams 

Round her coronet. 

All the air ambrosial 

Breathes around her brow, 
Fairer than the moonbeam, 

Purer than the snow ; 
Chaster than the starlight 

On the wave so cold, 
Shines the Star of Ocean 

Through the gates of Gold. 







¥&c 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. IQ7 

Sunlight of the Presence 

In their joy they find, 
Time, and day, and darkness 

Are all left behind : 
Wherefore should they reckon 

Of the waning hours, 
Where no hours are waning 

In those blissful bowers? 

But though sunshine warm them, 

Warmer is the love 
Kindled in the radiance 

Of the courts above ; 
Where no wolf in silence 

Climbs into the fold 
Fenced around in safety 

By the gates of Gold. 

There no slimy serpent 

Slides beneath the grass, 
Where their feet securely 

Through those meadows pass : 
Satan finds no entrance, 

Eden knows no guile, 
Where the Saints repose them, 

In God's loving smile. 

There at last before them, 

With all healing rife, 
Bearing twelve-fold fruitage 

Blooms the Tree of Life ; 



**$ 






A 




I98 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

No more curse hangs o'er them, 
Lest they touch that tree, 

They may eat, and eating, 
Live eternally. 

But no Tree of Knowledge 

Blooms before the Throne, 
For the Saints of JESUS 

Know as they are known ; 
Comes no guilt to try them, 

Those pure courts within : 
Comes there no temptation 

Where may come no sin. 

Through the flowery garden 

Flows, their footsteps near, 
Life's bright stream of water 

As the crystal clear ; 
From no earthly fountain 

Are its clear waves rolled, 
For they flow untainted 

Through the gates of Gold. 

On the breeze of morning, 

Like a distant chant 
Heard in dreams half-wakeful 

Sweet-toned, resonant, 
Floats the sound of harpers 

Harping dreamily, 
As 'mid flowers of Eden 

And sweet thoughts they lie. 





y&&/ 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 199 

For no cares, no sorrows 

Pass the Vale of Death, 
Sighs ne'er mount to Heaven 

On the parting breath ; 
Aching hearts their burden 

Now no longer hold ; 
That is dropt for ever 

At the gates of Gold. 



O my LORD, my Master, 

When earth's sunlight fades 

And my footsteps falter 
In the Vale of Shades, 

Let mine ears in rapture 
That sweet music hear 



Floating on the night-wind 
Nearer and more near. 



O my LORD, my Captain, 

Bid the martyr throng 
Sound across the darkness 

With the voice of song : 
Bid the Angel squadrons 

Sweep their dewy wings 
O'er the eyes which mirror 

Death's imaginings. 

O my Lord, my Saviour, 
In the deep dead gloom 

Which enfolds the vision 
Passing through the tomb, 







4te 




200 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

To my darkened eyesight 
Those bright beams unfold, 

Call me, lead me, guide me, 
To the gates of Gold. 



THE CELESTIAL COUNTRY. 



From Bernard of Clugny, translated by Dr. John Mason Neale. 



THE world is very evil ; 
The times are waxing late : 
Be sober and keep vigil ; 

The Judge is at the gate : 
The Judge that comes in mercy, 

The Judge that comes with might, 
To terminate the evil, 

To diadem the right. 
When the just and gentle Monarch 

Shall summon from the tomb, 
Let man, the guilty, tremble, 

For Man, the GOD, shall doom. 
Arise, arise, good Christian, 

Let right to wrong succeed ; 
Let penitential sorrow 

To heavenly gladness lead, 
To the light that hath no evening, 

That knows nor moon nor sun, 
The light so new and golden, 

The light that is but one. 






4fg. 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 201 

And when the Sole-Begotten 

Shall render up once more 
The kingdom to the FATHER 

Whose own it was before, — 
Then glory yet unheard of 

Shall shed abroad its ray, 
Resolving all enigmas, 

An endless Sabbath-day. 
Then, then from his oppressors 

The Hebrew shall go free, 
And celebrate in triumph 

The year of Jubilee ; 
And the sunlight Land that recks not 

Of tempest nor of fight, 
Shall fold within its bosom 

Each happy Israelite : 
The Home, of fadeless splendor, 

Of flowers that fear no thorn, 
Where they shall dwell as children, 

Who here as exiles mourn. 
Midst power that knows no limit, 

And wisdom free from bound, 
The Beatific Vision 

Shall glad the Saints around : 
The peace of all the faithful, 

The calm of all the blest, 
Inviolate, unvaried, 

Divinest, sweetest, best. 
Yes, peace ! for war is needless, — 

Yes, calm ! for storm is past,— 
And goal from finished labor, 

And anchorage at last. 






xt&. 



202 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

That peace — but who may claim it? 

The guileless in their way, 
Who keep the ranks of battle, 

Who mean the thing they say: 
The peace that is for heaven, 

And shall be for the earth : 
The palace that re-echoes 

With festal song and mirth ; 
The garden, breathing spices, 

The paradise on high ; 
Grace beautified to glory, 

Unceasing minstrelsy. 
There nothing can be feeble, 

There none can ever mourn, 
There nothing is divided, 

There nothing can be torn : 
'Tis fury, ill, and scandal, 

'Tis peaceless peace below ; 
Peace, endless, strifeless, ageless, 

The halls of Syon know : 
O happy, holy portion, 

Refection for the blest ; 
True vision of true beauty, 

Sweet cure of all distrest ! 
Strive, man, to win that glory ; 

Toil, man, to gain that light ; 
Send hope before to grasp it, 

Till hope be lost in sight : 
Till JESUS gives the portion 

Those blessed souls to fill, 
The insatiate, yet satisfied, 

The full, yet craving still. 






=!& 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 203 

That fulness and that cravirii 



L t> 



Alike are free from pain, 
Where thou, midst heavenly citizens, 

A home like theirs shalt gain. 
Here is the warlike trumpet ; 

There, life set free from sin ; 
When to the last Great Supper 

The faithful shall come in : 
When the heavenly net is laden, 

With fishes many and great ; 
So glorious in its fulness, 

Yet so inviolate : 
And the perfect from the shattered, 

And the fall'n from them that stand, 
And the sheep-flock from the goat-herd 

Shall part on either hand : 
And these .shall pass to torment, 

And those shall triumph, then ; 
The new peculiar nation, 

Blest number of blest men. 
Jerusalem demands them : 

They paid the price on earth, 
And now shall reap the harvest 

In blissfulness and mirth : 
The glorious holy people, 

Who evermore relied 
Upon their Chief and Father, 

The King, the Crucified : 
The sacred ransomed number 

Now bright with endless sheen, 
Who made the Cross their watchword 

Of JESUS Nazarene: 







jgg. 



204 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Who, fed with heavenly nectar, 

Where soul-like odors play, 
Draw out the endless leisure 

Of that long vernal day : 
And through the sacred lilies, 

And flowers on every side, 
The happy dear-bought people 

Go wandering far and wide. 
Their breasts are filled with gladness, 

Their mouths are tun'd to praise. 
What time, now safe for ever, 

On former sins they gaze : 
The fouler was the error, 

The sadder was the fall, 
The ampler are the praises 

Of Him who pardoned all. 
Their one and only anthem, 

The fulness of His love, 
Who gives instead of torment, 

Eternal joys above : 
Instead of torment, glory; 

Instead of death, that life 
Wherewith your happy Country, 

True Israelites! is rife. 
Brief life is here our portion ; 

Brief sorrow, short-lived care ; 
The life that knows no ending, 

The tearless life, is there. 
O happy retribution ! 

Short toil, eternal rest ; 
For mortals and for sinners 

A mansion with the blest ! 







THE HEAVENLY STATE. 20 = 

That we should look, poor vvand'rers, 

To have our home on high ! 
That worms should seek for dwellings 

Beyond the starry sky ! 
To all one happy guerdon 

Of one celestial grace ; 
For all, for all, who mourn their fall, 

Is one eternal place : 
And martyrdom hath roses 

Upon that heavenly ground : 
And wmite and virgin lilies 

For virgin-souls abound. 
There grief is turned to pleasure ; 

Such pleasure, as below 
No human voice can utter, 

No human heart can know : 
And after fleshly scandal, 

And after this world's night, 
And after storm and whirlwind, 

Is calm, and joy, and light. 
And now we fight the battle, 

But then shall wear the crown 
Of full and everlasting 

And passionless renown : 
And now we watch and struggle, 

And now we live in hope, 
And Syon, in her anguish, 

With Babylon must cope ; 
But He whom now we trust in 

Shall then be seen and known, 
And they that know and see Him 

Shall have Him for their own. 







A: 



206 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



The miserable pleasures 

Of the body shall decay : 
The bland and flattering struggles 

Of the flesh shall pass away ; 
And none shall there be jealous ; 

And none shall there contend : 
Fraud, clamor, guile — what say I ? 

All ill, all ill shall end ! 
And there is David's Fountain, 

And life in fullest glow, 
And there the light is golden, 

And milk and honey flow : 
The light that hath no evening, 

The health that hath no sore, 
The life that hath no ending, 

But lasteth evermore. 
There JESUS shall embrace us, 

There JESUS be embraced — 
That spirit's food and sunshine 

Whence earthly love is chased. 
Amidst the happy chorus, 

A place, however low, 
Shall shew Him us, and shewing, 

Shall satiate evermo. 
By hope we struggle onward, 

While here we must be fed 
By milk, as tender infants, 

But there by Living Bread. 
The night was full of terror, 

The morn is bright with gladness 
The Cross becomes our harbor, 

And we triumph after sadness : 





^fe. 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 207 

And JESUS to His true ones 

Brings trophies fair to see : 
And JESUS shall be loved, and 

Beheld in Galilee : 
Beheld, when morn shall waken, 

And shadows shall decay, 
And each true-hearted servant 

Shall shine as doth the day : 
And every ear shall hear it ; — 

Behold thy King's array : 
Behold thy God in beauty, 

The Law hath past away ! 
Yes ! GOD my King and Portion, 

In fulness of His grace, 
We then shall see for ever, 

And worship face to face. 
Then Jacob into Israel, 

From earthlier self estranged, 
And Leah into Rachel 

For ever shall be changed : 
Then all the halls of Syon 

For aye shall be complete, 
And, in the Land of Beauty, 

All things of beauty meet. 
For thee, O dear, dear Country ! 

Mine eyes their vigils keep ; 
For very love, beholding 

Thy happy name, they weep : 
The mention of thy glory 

Is unction to the breast, 
And medicine in sickness, 

And love, and life, and rest. 





A 




208 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O one, O onely Mansion ! 

O Paradise of Joy ! 
Where tears are ever banished, 

And smiles have no alloy ; 
Beside thy living waters 

All plants are, great and small, 
The cedar of the forest, 

The hyssop of the wall : 
With jaspers glow thy bulwarks ; 

Thy streets with emeralds blaze ; 
The sardius and the topaz 

Unite in thee their rays : 
Thine ageless walls are bonded 

With amethyst unpriced : 
Thy Saints build up its fabric, 

And the corner stone is CHRIST. 
The Cross is all thy splendor, 

The Crucified thy praise : 
His laud and benediction 

Thy ransomed people raise : 
JESUS, the Gem of Beauty, 

True God and Man, they sing : 
The never-failing Garden, 
* The ever-golden Ring: 
The Door, the Pledge, the Husband, 

The Guardian of his Court : 
The Day-star of Salvation, 

The Porter and the Port. 
Thou hast no shore, fair ocean ! 

Thou hast no time, bright day ! 
Dear fountain of refreshment 

To pilgrims far away ! 









THE HEAVENLY STATE. 209 

Upon the Rock of Ages 

They raise thy holy tower : 
Thine is the victor's laurel, 

And thine the golden dower : 
Thou feel'st in mystic rapture, 

O Bride that know'st no guile, 
The Prince's sweetest kisses, 

The Prince's loveliest smile ; 
Unfading lilies, bracelets 

Of living pearl thine own ; 
The Lamb is ever near thee, 

The Bridegroom thine alone ; 
The Crown is He to guerdon, 

The Buckler to protect, 
And He Himself the Mansion 

And He the Architect. 
The only art thou needest, 

Thanksgiving for thy lot : 
The only joy thou seekest, 

The Life where Death is not : 
And all thine endless leisure . 

In sweetest accents sings, 
The ill that was thy merit, — 

The wealth that is thy King's ! 
Jerusalem the golden, 

With milk and honey blest, 
Beneath thy contemplation 

Sink heart and voice oppressed : 
I know not, O I know not, 

What social joys are there ; 
What radiancy of glory, 

What light beyond compare ! 

\& ______ 



W 





:ifi 



2 TO HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And when I fain would sing them, 

My spirit fails and faints ; 
And vainly would it image 

The assembly of the Saints. 
They stand, those halls of Syon, 

Conjubilant with song, 
And bright with many an angel, 

And all the martyr throng: 
The Prince is ever in them ; 

The daylight is serene ; 
The pastures of the Blessed 

Are decked in glorious sheen. 
There is the Throne of David, — 

And there, from care released, 
The song of them that triumph, 

The shout of them that feast ; 
And they who, with their Leader, 

Have conquered in the fight, 
For ever and for ever 

Are clad in robes of white ! 
O holy, placid harp-notes 

Of that eternal hymn ! 
O sacred, sweet refection, 

And peace of Seraphim ! 
O thirst, for ever ardent, 

Yet evermore content ! 
O true peculiar vision 

Of God cunctipotent ! 
Ye know the many mansions 

For many a glorious name, 
And divers retributions 

That divers merits claim : 






Y&y 




the heavenly STATE. 211 

For midst the constellations 

That deck our earthly sky, 
This star than that is brighter, — 

And so it is on high. 
Jerusalem the glorious ! 

The glory of the Elect ! 
O dear and future vision 

That eager hearts expect : 
Even now by faith I see thee : 

Even here thy walls discern : 
To thee my thoughts are kindled, 

And strive and pant and yearn 
Jerusalem the onely, 

That look'st from heaven below 
In thee is- all my glory ; 

In me is all my woe : 
And though my body may not, 

My spirit seeks thee fain, 
Till flesh and earth return me 

To earth and flesh again. 
O none can tell thy bulwarks, 

How gloriously they rise : 
O none can tell thy capitals 

Of beautiful device : 
Thy loveliness oppresses 

All human thought and heart : 
And none, O peace, O Syon, 

Can sing thee as thou art. 
New mansion of new people, 

Whom God's own love and light 
Promote, increase, make holy, 

Identify, unite. 



't> j 







-A- 




212 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Thou City of the Angels ! 

Thou city of the LORD ! 
Whose everlasting music 

Is the glorious decachord ! 
And there the band of Prophets 

United praise ascribes, 
And there the twelvefold chorus 

Of Israel's ransomed tribes: 
The lily-beds of virgins, 

The roses' martyr-glow, 
The cohort of the Fathers 

Who kept the faith below. 
And there the Sole-Begotten 

Is Lord in regal state ; 
He, Judah's mystic Lion, 

He, Lamb Immaculate. 
O fields that know no sorrow ! 

O state that fears no strife ! 

princely bow'rs ! O land of flow'rs ! 

realm and home of life ! 
Jerusalem, exulting 

On the securest shore, 

1 hope thee, wish thee, sing thee, 
And love thee evermore ! 

I ask not for my merit : 

1 seek not to deny 
My merit is destruction, 

A child of wrath am I : 
But yet with Faith I venture 

And Hope upon my way ; 
For those perennial guerdons 

I labor night and day. 





A- 






THE HEAVENLY STATE. 213 

The best and dearest Father 

Who made me and Who saved, 
Bore with me in defilement, 

And from defilement laved : 
When in His strength I struggle, 

For very joy I leap, 
When in my sin I totter, 

I weep, or try to weep : 
And grace, sweet grace celestial, 

Shall all its love display, 
And David's Royal Fountain 

Purge every sin away. 
O mine, my golden Syon ! 
O lovelier far than gold ! 
With laurel-girt battalions, ~ 

And safe victorious fold : 
O sweet and blessed Country, 

Shall I ever see thy face ? 

sweet and blessed Country, 
Shall I ever win thy grace ? 

1 have the hope within me 
To comfort and to bless ! 

Shall I ever win the prize itself? 

O tell me, tell me, Yes ! 
Exult, O dust and ashes ! 

The LORD shall be thy part : 
His only, His for ever, 

Thou shalt be, and thou art ! 
Exult, O dust and ashes ! 

The LORD shall be thy part : 
His only, His for ever, 

Thou shalt be, and thou art ! 









214 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE BETTER COUNTRY. 



Another translation of the foregoing hymn of Bernard of Clugny. 
By Dr. Abraham Coles. 



THE last of the hours, iniquity towers, 
The times are the worst, let us vigils be keeping ! 
Lest the Judge who is near, and soon to appear, 
Shall us at His coming find slumbering and sleeping. 
He is nigh ! He is nigh ! He descends from the sky, 
For the ending of evil, the right's coronation, 
The just to reward, relief to afford, 
And the heavens bestow for the saints' habitation : 
To lift and unbind grievous weights from the mind, 
To give every man what is just and is equal, 
To make the good glad, and punish the bad, 
To the praise of His justice and grace in the sequel. 
Most clement and dear, most just and severe, 
Lo ! cometh the King in terrible splendor ; 
Man springs from the sod, and the Man who is God, 
The Judge from the Father, stands sentence to render. 
The life here below, so brief is brief woe, 
A brief mortal space for weeping afforded ; 
Not briefly to sigh, then lie down and die, 
Is the life that's to be hereafter awarded. 
O most blessed award ! the gift of the Lord, 
A life whose long years cannot be computed ; 
O strange award given ! a mansion in heaven, 
Assigned to the guilty, the sometime polluted. 
What's given, and to whom? In the firmament, room 






utar 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 21 5 

To the needy, and those by the cross worthy rendered — 
Yea, on Mercy's sweet terms, orbs celestial to worms, 
To felons the best, to the hateful stars tendered. 
Now are battles most hard ; after these the reward. 
Reward of what sort ? Reward without measure ; 
Full refreshment, repose, full exemption from woes, 
No suffering, no pain, only unalloyed pleasure. 
Now live we in hope, and Zion must cope 
With Babylon proud arfd the powers infernal ; 
Now affliction makes sad, then delight shall make glad, 
And there shall be crowns and sceptres supernal. 
Then new gjorv divine on the righteous shall shine, 
And chase from their breasts the darkness that paineth ; 
Chase doubt and chase fear, and enigmas make clear — 
The light of true sabbaths. " the rest that remaineth." 
All free from the foe and his master shall go 
The Hebrew, whose feet heavy chains now environ, — 
He henceforth held free shall keep jubilee, 
No more to be bound in affliction and iron. 
A country of light, unacquainted with night, 
Where of tempest and strife nothing breaks the deep 

slumber, 
With inhabitants free it replenished shall be — 
Enlarged with true Israelites countless in number: 
Country splendid and grand, and a flowery land 
That's free from all thorns and free from all dangers, 
Is there to be given to the free born of heaven — 
The faithful, who here are now pilgrims and strangers 
Shall then be unrolled, to all that behold 
The face of the Thunderer, and to such solely, 
The utmost extreme of power supreme, 
Full knowledge, the unutterable peace 6*f the holy : 



*% 






jfg. 




2l6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

A peace by the tongue of slander unstung; 
A peace without storm, without wrangling or rancor ; 
To labors a goal, and to billows that roll, 
And tumults a fixed immovable anchor. 
My King is my part, God Himself in my heart, 
In His own proper beauty august and endearing, 
I shall see and enshrine and challenge as mine, — 
My Author and Saviour, — before Him appearing. 
Then the Israel of grace shall Jacob displace, 
And Leah be Rachel in form and affection ; 
Then Zion shall stand, a beautiful land, 
In all the completeness of God-like perfection. 
O country most dear, our longing eyes here, 
As they view thee afar, with desire are aching ; 
At the sound of thy name our hearts are aflame, 
And our eyes are aweary 'twixt weeping and waking. 
Thy mention brings rest, is balm to the breast, 
Is the cure of our grief and takes away sadness ; 
The thinking of thee and the bliss that shall be, 
Is a fire of love and a fountain of gladness. 
The only place thou that draws our hearts now, — 
Thou Paradise art, thou our blissful Hereafter ; 
No tears are found there, no sorrow, no care, 
But serenest rejoicings and innocent laughter. 
There planted are seen, eternally green, 
The laurel and cedar, with the hyssop low growing ; 
There are walls with the rays of the jasper ablaze, 
With the carbuncle bright, incandescent and glowing 
The sardius shines there, here the topaz most rare, 
Here the beams of the amethyst with the rest mingle- 
To thy fabric belong the heavenly throng, 
The corner-stone Christ, gem precious and single. 






jfe 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 217 

Without shore, without time, everlasting, sublime, 
Thou, fountain and stream late hitherward flowing, 
To the good tastest sweet, living rock at their feet, 
That all through the wilderness gladdened their going. 
Thine's the laurel's green crown, with its leaf never 

brown ; 
Rich dower all golden, fair spouse, is thee given ; 
Thine's the exquisite bliss, of the Prince's first kiss, 
And the sight of His face like a vision of heaven. 
Fair lilies and white, living gems flashing bright 
Compose, happy spouse, thy bridal adorning ; 
Sits the Lamb by thy side, and beams on His bride, 
Like the sun when He breaks through the gates of the 

morning : 
Thy whole sweet employ, in triumph and joy, 
Sweet anthems of praise to warble forever : 
Evils merited tell,. blessings granted as well, 
With shoutings to grace that terminate never. 
City golden and blest, from thy fields' teeming breast 
Flow rivers of milk, — fair people, fair dwellings ; 
Thou the whole heart dost whelm, such the charms of 

thy realm, 
Choked is the voice with the heart's mighty swellings. 
Confined here below, I pretend not to know, 
What forms this rejoicing, the kind of light given ; 
Nor how lofty the heights of those social delights, 
Nor how special the glory that constitutes heaven. 
These striving to raise in an effort of praise, 
My mind overmastered, lo ! fainteth and faileth ; 
O glory unknown, I am conquered I own, 
Thy superior praise in all things prevaileth. 
There are shoutings and calls in thy echoing halls, 





y&M 




2l8 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

With the martyr host full, a glorious muster, 
With the citizen, bright, with the Prince aye in sight, 
Serene evermore with a soft, sacred lustre. 
There sweet pastures around for the gentle abound, 
For the saints a dear flock by the water brooks graz- 
ing ; 
There's the throne of the King, there the palace-walls 



With the sound of a multitude feasting and praising. 
Nation glorious and grand, through the conquering 

hand 
Of the Leader, a host in white vestments shining, 
Through the long rolling years they remain without 

tears ; 
In the dwellings of Zion there is rest from repining. 
Without crime, without storm, to mar and deform, 
Without weapons of strife, without matter of quarrel, 
The Israelites blest in their lofty homes rest, — 
The olive of peace intertwined with the laurel. 

illustrious name, Zion, highest in fame, 
Whose glory is that to the glorified owing, 

Thou dost knowledge dispense to the innermost sense, 
Thy innermost good thus secretly showing. 
My innermost eyes, thus piercing the skies, 
From the minds' highest peaks delighted behold thee; 
Now my breast, all on fire with hope and desire, 
Transported expects sometime to enfold thee. 
Thou Zion art one, beside thee is none, — 
Upreared in the skies a mystical dwelling — 
Now in thee I am glad, now in me I am sad, 

1 sob and 1 sigh with breast heaving and swelling. 
Since the body's dull clod keeps me back from my God, 



¥ 






THE HEAVENLY STATE. 2ig 

Thee to pierce I oft try with spiritual pinion ; 

But earthly flesh, fleshly earth, makes the attempt lit- 
tle worth, 

And I quickly fall back to the senses' dominion. 

No mortal may dare with his mouth to declare — 

The task were presumptuous and desperate the duty — 

Where thy walls, how they rise, in what part of the 
skies 

Thy capitals shine complete in their beauty. 

Thy charms, they weigh down the heart wholly and 
drown, 

Zion ! O Peace beyond all conceiving ! 

City blest, without time, dear, tranquil, sublime ! 
No possible praise can e'er be deceiving. 
No delights vain and lewd, and no sorrows intrude, 
No strife with its wasting, its burning and blasting; 
Home happy and high, flowery land of the sky, 
Land native to bliss and the life everlasting. 
City, seen from afar, where the glorified are, 
On a safe and high shore, to ! thy towers are soar- 
in or • 

Thee I sue, I admire, thee I love, I desire, 
Sing hymns unto thee, and salute thee adoring. 
Not on merit, but grace, I rest solely my case, 
For, measured by merit, condemned my condition ; 
Not dumb and perverse do I cover the worse — 

1 own I'm a child of wrath and perdition. 

My life's a life spilt, void of good, full of guilt ; 

A life like to death, without vital expressions ; 

Its innocence quenched, from its proper life wrenched, 

Destroyed by reason of deadly transgressions. 

Notwithstanding in hope I walk softly and grope, 






.& 




220 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

In hope and in faith heavenly guerdons beseeching ; 
I, trembling and weak, eternal joys seek — 
By night and by day imploring hands reaching. 
Our Father above, whose nature is love, 
The best and the dearest, He made and He saved me. 
With my vileness He bore, from my vileness He tore, 
From my sin and uncleanness He graciously laved me ; 
Grace celestial alone, direct from the throne, 
Is the sovereign provision of God's own appointing, 
The sordid of soul to save and make whole, 
For inward diseases the potent anointing. 
Grace washes away all pollution for aye, — 
The Fountain of David, as free as redundant, 
Makes pure all within, makes clean from all sin, 
To all alike flows in measure abundant. 
O excellent grace ! to an excellent place 
Me raise to discern stately palaces gleaming ; 
At a distance, at least, see the heavenly feast 
With holiest mirth and melody teeming. 
Thou Zion ! O mine, my hope all divine ! 
Like gold, but far nobler, to our dazzled eyes loom- 
ing, 
Most brilliant thy host, but their Leader's thy boast, 
Brave region with laurel perpetually blooming. 
O Country most sweet, shall my eyes ever greet 
Thy turrets and towers, and know thy enjoyments? 

Country most blest, e'er in thee shall I rest, 
Possess thy rewards and share thy employments ? 
Tell me, I pray, render answer, and say : 

Thou shalt hereafter most surely behold me — 

1 hope entertain, the thing hoped shall I gain ? 

O say : Thou forever shalt have, and shalt hold me. 






THE HEAVENLY STATE. 221 

Advanced to that sphere, holy, most dear, 
O blessed, thrice blessed, and blessed forever, 
Who with cleaving of heart, chooses God for his part : 
O wretched, undone, who from this shall him sever. 



^ 



OH, PARADISE MUST SHOW MORE FAIR. 



From the German of Friedrich Ruckert. By Richard C. Trench. 



OH Paradise must show more fair 
Than any earthly ground ; 
And therefore longs my spirit there 
Right quickly to be found. 

In Paradise a stream must flow 
Of everlasting love ; 
Each tear of longing shed below 
Therein a pearl will prove. 

In Paradise a breath of balm 
All anguish must allay, 
Till every anguish growing calm, 
Even mine shall flee away. 

And there the tree of stillest peace 
In verdant spaces grows : 
Beneath it one can never cease 
To dream of blest repose. 






igjl 




222 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

A cherub at the gate must be 
Fan off the world to fray, 
That its rude noises reach not me 
To fright my dream away. 

My heart, that weary ship, at last 
Safe haven there will gain, 
And on the breast will slumber fast 
• The wakeful infant, Pain. 

For every thorn that pierced me here 
The rose will there be found ; 
With joy, earth's roses brought not near 
My head will there be crowned. 

There all delights will blossom forth 
That here in bud expire, 
And from all mourning weeds of earth 
Be wove a bright attire. 

All here I sought in vain pursuit 
Will freely meet me there, 
As from green branches golden fruit, 
Fair flowers from gardens fair. 

My youth, that by me swept amain, 
On swift wing borne away, 
And Love, that suffered me to drain, 
Its nectar for a day — 

These never wishing to depart, 
Will me forever bless, 
Their darling fold unto the heart, 
And comfort and caress. 







4^: 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 223 

And there the Loveliness, whose glance 
From far did on me gleam, 
But whose unveiled countenance 
Was only seen in dream, 

Will, meeting all my soul's desires, 
Unveil itself to me, 
When to the choir of starry lyres, 
Shall mine united be. 



OH WHAT IS THIS SPLENDOR? 



Frederick William Faber. 



OH what is this splendor that beams on me now, 
This beautiful sunrise that dawns on my soul, 
While faint and far off land and sea lie below, 
And under my feet the huge golden clouds roll ? 

To what mighty king doth this city belong, 

With its rich jewelled shrines, and its gardens of 
flowers, 
With its breaths of sweet incense, its measures of 
song, 
And the light that is gilding its numberless towers? 

See ! forth from the gates, like a bridal array, 

Come the princes of heaven, how bravely they shine ! 

'Tis to welcome the stranger, to show me the way, 
And to tell me that all I see round me is mine. 







jfg. 




224 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There are millions of saints, in their ranks and degrees, 
And each with a beauty and crown of his own ; 

And there, far outnumbering the sands of the seas, 
The nine rings of Angels encircle the throne. 

And far in the heart of that glorious light 
The mighty Apostles are seated in state, 

With Joseph and John, who in life's mortal night 
Were appointed on Jesus and Mary to wait. 

And oh if the exiles of earth could but win 
One sight of the beauty of Jesus above, 

From that hour they would cease to be able to sin, 
And earth would be heaven ; for heaven is love. 

But words may not tell of the Vision of Peace, 
With its worshipful seeming, its marvellous fires ; 

Where the soul is at large, where its sorrows all cease, 
And the gift has outbidden its boldest desires. 

No sickness is here, no bleak bitter cold, 
No hunger, debt, prison, or weariful toil ; 

No robbers to rifle our treasures of gold, 
No rust to corrupt, and no canker to spoil. 

My God ! and it was but a short hour ago 
That I lay on a bed of unbearable pains ; 

All was cheerless around me, all weeping and woe ; 
Now the wailing is changed to angelicalstrains. 

Because I served Thee, were life's pleasures all lost ? 

Was it gloom, pain, or blood, that won heaven for 
me? 
Oh no ! one enjoyment alone could life boast, 

And that, dearest Lord ! was my service of Thee. 





Jk 



J& 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 225 

I had hardly to give ; 'twas enough to receive, 
Only not to impede the sweet grace from above ; 

And, this first hour in heaven, I can hardly believe 
Is so great a reward for so little a love. 



PLEASANT ARE THY COURTS ABOVE. 



Henry Francis Lyte. 




PLEASANT are Thy courts above, 
In the land of light and love ; 
Pleasant are Thy courts below, 
In this land of sin and woe. 
O, my spirit longs and faints 
For the converse of Thy saints, 
For the brightness of Thy face, 
King of Glory, God of grace ! 

Happy birds, that sing and fly 
Round Thy altars, O most High ! 
Happier souls, that find a rest 
In a Heavenly Father's breast ! 
Like the wandering dove that found 
No repose on earth around, 
They can to their ark repair, 
And enjoy it ever there. 

Lord, be mine this prize to win ; 
Guide me through a world of sin ; 
Keep me by Thy saving grace ; 
Give me at Thy side a place. 






* 




226 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Sun and shield alike Thou art , 
Guide and guard my erring heart ; 
Grace and glory flow from Thee ; 
Shower, O shower them, Lord, on me. 



ON YONDER HOLY GROUND. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



THESE are the crowns that we shall wear, 
When all thy saints are crowned ; 
These are the palms that we shall bear 
On yonder holy ground. 

Far off as yet, reserved in heaven, 

Above that veiling sky, 
They sparkle like the stars of even, 

To hope's far-piercing eye. 

These are the robes, unsoiled and white, 

Which then we shall put on, 
When, foremost 'mong the sons of light, 

We sit on yonder throne. 

That city with the jewelled crest, 

Like some new-lighted sun ; 
A blaze of burning amethyst — 

Ten thousand orbs in one ; — 

That is the city of the saints, 

Where we so soon shall stand, 
When we shall strike these desert-tents, 

And quit this desert-sand. 







A 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 227 

These are the everlasting hills, 

With summits bathed in day : 
The slopes down which the living rills, 

Soft-lapsing, take their way. 

Fair vision ! how thy distant gleam 

Brightens time's saddest hue ; 
Far fairer than the fairest dream, 
" And yet so strangely true ! 

Fair vision ! how thou liftest up 

The drooping brow and eye ; 
With the calm joy of thy sure hope 

Fixing our souls on high. 

Thy light makes even the darkest page 

In memory's scroll grow fair; 
Blanching the lines which tears and age 

Had only deepened there. 

With thee in view, the rugged slope 

Becomes a level way, 
Smoothed by the magic of thy hope, 

And gladdened by thy ray. 

With thee in view, how poor appear 

The world's most winning smiles ; 
Vain is the tempter's subtlest snare, 

And vain hell's varied wiles. 

Time's glory fades ; its beauty now 

Has ceased to lure or blind ; 
Each gay enchantment here below 

Has lost its power to bind. 





y&y 




228 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Then welcome toil, and care, and pain ! 

And welcome sorrow too ! 
All toil is rest, all grief is gain, 

With such a prize in view. 

Come crown and throne, come robe and palm ! 

Burst forth,, glad stream of peace! 
Come, holy city of the Lamb ! 

Rise, Sun of Righteousness ! 

When shall the clouds that veil thy rays 

Forever be withdrawn ? 
Why dost thou tarry, day of days ? 

When shall thy gladness dawn ? 



THE CENTRE OF MY BLISS. 



Samuel Crossman. 



JERUSALEM on high 
My song and city is, 
My home whene'er I die, 
The centre of my bliss : 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

Thy walls, sweet city, thine, 
With pearls are garnished ; 
Thy gates with praises shine, 
Thy streets with gold are spread ; 




Jt 



H$M 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 22Q 

O happy place ! 

When shall I be, 

My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

No sun by day shines there, 
Nor moon by silent night ; 
O no ! these needless are ; 
The Lamb's the city's light. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My Godj with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

There dwells my Lord, my King, 
Judged here unfit to live ; 
There angels to Him sing, 
And lowly homage give. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

The patriarchs of old 
There from their travels cease ; 
The prophets there behold 
Their longed-for Prince of Peace. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 







_ # t ^ 




230 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The Lamb's apostles there 
I might with joy behold ; 
The harpers I might hear 
Harping on harps of gold. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 



IN JESUS' SIGHT. 



George H. Houghton. 

JERUSALEM ! Jerusalem ! 
It is not to behold 
The glory of thy jasper-walls, 
Thy streets of purest gold ; 

To see the twelve Apostles' names 

Upon thy bulwark traced ; 
Thy gates — each one a solid pearl, 

By each an angel placed ; 

The stream of life from 'neath the throne, 

Nor yet that throne to see — 
That I would pray, " O may my home 

Be found at last in Thee ! " 

No earthly eye I know hath seen 

The glories that are thine ; 
Nor ear hath heard such strains as rise 

From 'mid the host divine. 







A 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 

But more than all thy streets can boast 

My eager eyes would see ! 
JESUS, the precious Lamb of God, 

Who died to ransom me ! 

" Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 

Name ever dear to me, 
O may at last my name be found," 

With Christ, my Lord, in Thee ! 



231 



THY GATES OF GLISTENING PEARL UN 

FOLD. 



John Henry Hopkins, Jr. 



JERUSALEM, my Home, 
I see thy walls arise ; 
Their jasper clear and sardine stone 

Flash radiance through the skies. 

In clouds of heaven-descending, 

With angel train attending, 
Thy gates of glistening pearl unfold 

On streets of glassy gold. 
No sun is there, no day or night ; 
But of seven-fold splendors bright, 
Thy Temple is the Light OF Light, 

Jerusalem, my Home. 

Jerusalem, my Home, 
Where shines the royal Throne, 
Each king casts down his golden crown 
Before the Lamb thereon. 
Thence flows the crystal River, 
And, flowing on forever, 






Jte 




232 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



With leaves and fruits on either hand, 

The Tree of Life shall stand. 
In blood-washed robes, all white and fair, 
The Lamb shall lead His chosen there, 
While clouds of incense fill the air, 
Jerusalem, my Home. 

Jerusalem, my Home, 

Where saints in triumph sing, 
While, tuned in tones of golden harps, 

Heaven's boundless arches ring. 

No more in tears and sighing 

Our weak hosannas dying, 
But hallelujah loud and high 

Roll thundering through the sky. 
One chorus thrills their countless throngs ; 
Ten thousand times ten thousand tongues 
Fill them with overwhelming songs, 

Jerusalem, my -Home. 

Jerusalem, my Home, 

Thou sole all glorious Bride, 
Creation shouts with joy to see 

Thy Bridegroom at thy side : 

The Man yet interceding, 

His Hands and Feet yet bleeding, 
And Him the billowy hosts adore 

LORD God for evermore, 
And " Holy, Holy, Holy," cry 
The choirs that crowd thy courts on high. 
Resounding everlastingly 

Jerusalem, my Home 






& 



THE HEAVENLY STATE. 233 

Jerusalem, my home, 

Where saints in glory reign, 
Thy haven safe, O when shall I, 

Poor storm-tossed pilgrim, gain ? 

At distance dark and dreary, 

With sin and sorrow weary, 
For thee I toil, for thee I pray, 

For thee I long alway. 
And lo ! mine eyes shall see thee, too : 
O rend in twain, thou veil of blue, 
And let the Golden City through — 

Jerusalem, my Home ! 



WHERE IS THE LAND HE SAW? 



C. L. Ford. 



" The Land that is afar off." 



WHERE is the Land he saw in glorious vision, 
The lone old Prophet in the Sea-girt Isle, — 
True antitype of all the dreams Elysian, 

Fashioned by Hope earth's sorrows to beguile? 

Call them not idle, all the tales they fabled 
Of Happy Isles in far Hesperian Seas, 

Whose straining sight no torch of Truth enabled 
To pierce by faith the unseen Mysteries. 

Call it not vain, the rude untutored longing 
For higher life each meanest mind that moves, 

That murmurs still, when base affection wronging 
Our nobler part too oft victorious proves. 







A 




234 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Where is that Land? above, beneath, around us? 

Lost in all space, or to a star confined? 
O for one hour to pass the shores that bound us," 

And fathom all the future of the mind ! 

Ye who have left our side to join the chorus 
Of holy Minstrels in that distant clime, 

Waft some faint echoes of your harpstrings o'er us, 
To chase the mystery from your homes sublime. 

They send no sound ! Sweet Patience singeth only, 
" Strive to the end, and struggle to the goal ! " 

Then, for earth's hours of anguish, dark and lonely, 
Bright dawns eternal sunshine on the Soul. 

Then they who mourn for earth's frail joys departed, 
Oblivion sweet of all their woes shall gain ; 

The heavy-laden and the broken-hearted, 

Balm for their wounds, and solace from their pain. 

O Mourner, weeping long thy loved ones taken, 
They tread the shining paths by Angels trod ! 

O thou by trusted hearts in need forsaken, 
Love shall not fail thee in the Land of GOD ! 

There, Soul with Soul in converse sweet confiding, 
Nor shy mistrust, nor selfish aim shall know ; 

Pure as the crystal Stream beside them gliding, 
All wish, all thought, in unison shall flow. 

Brave heart, hold on ! in dauntless strength of duty 
Work out thy lot, nor murmur at thy star ! 

So shall thou soon, in glory and in beauty, 
Behold the King in that bright Land afar. 







jgijgc 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 235 



LIGHT'S ABODE, CELESTIAL SALEM ! 

LIGHT'S abode, Celestial Salem, 
Vision whence true peace doth spring, 
Brighter than the heart can fancy, 
Mansion of the Highest King; 
O how glorious are the praises 

Which of Thee the prophets sing ! 

There for ever and for ever 

Alleluia is out-poured ; 
For unending, for unbroken 

Is the feast-day of the Lord ; 
All is pure, and all is holy 

That within Thy walls is stored. 

There no cloud nor passing vapor 

Dims the brightness of the air ; 
Endless noon-day, glorious noon-day, 

From the Sun of suns is there ; 
There no night brings rest from labor, 

For unknown are toil and care. 

O how glorious and resplendent, 

Fragile body, shalt thou be, 
When endued with so much beauty, 

Full of health, and strong and free, 
Full of vigor, full of pleasure 

That shall last eternally ! 







^ 




236 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Now with gladness, now with courage 
Bear the burden on thee laid, 

That hereafter these thy labors 
May with endless gifts be paid, 

And in everlasting glory 

Thou with brightness be arrayed. 



WHEN I THINK WHAT SHALL BEFALL. 



Tjhis is a part of a poem called A Meditation of a Faithful Soul, ascribed to thi 
Franciscan Peter Gonella, of Tortona. The translation is by F. C. Husenbeth. 



WHEN I think what shall befall 
After death the Virtuous all, 
And how firm will stand the Just, 
Greatly I rejoice and trust. 

For the Day is near when those 
Just and Good shall find repose, 
When their persecutors cease 
And the Patient reign in peace. 

O that Day of Life and Light, 
Day of unheard Glory bright, 
When grim .Death itself shall die, 
And the dismal night shall fly. 

Lo ! the great, long wished for King 
Now Salvation hastes to bring, 
Now will at the just One's prayer 
Heavenly Bliss for him prepare. 






A- 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 

Heavenly King, He hastens now ; 
At His Coming all must bow, 
Judge and Witness, great and free, 
He Whom every eye shall see. 

He will come and not delay, 

And His Glory will display, 

To reward the suffering Just, 

Who in Him have placed their trust. 

O how happy ! O how sweet ! 
When those Souls shall JESUS meet, 
Whom in life they truly loved, 
And His faithful Servants proved. 

Then with gracious Look and Word, 
Speaking,. JESUS shall be heard ; 
Thus His Love shall utterance find 
In the sight of all mankind — 

You who have your Faith maintained, 
And with Me have firm remained, 
You who bore for Me and fought, 
See the good you long have sought. 

See the Kingdom promised you, 
Though concealed till now from view ; 
Behold, possess, and reign secure, 
Ever shall your Joy endure. 

Then the Just shall in amaze 
Speak with holy joy and praise, 
And reply exultingly, 
Praising what they wondering see — 



'37 





3k 



238 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

To our GOD be thanks and praise ! 
What we hoped for all our days, 
Now we see and now possess ; 
CHRIST our LORD we praise and bless 

O how sweet, how blest our fate, 
Throughout life the world to hate ; 
Sad and bitter would it prove 
If the world had gained our love. 

Happy those who mourned and wept, 
And their Souls in patience kept, 
Those to whom the world gave pain 
Now in endless Bliss shall reign. 

There shall dwell no grief, nor fear ; 
None shall ever shed a tear ; 
Nor shall want ; nor age, nor care, 
Nor defect be ever there. 

There shall reign eternal Peace, 
Holy Joy shall never cease, 
There shall be the flower of youth, 
There Salvation's crown and truth. 

None the Rapture can conceive, 
Nor the perfect Joy believe ' 
In Heaven's Glory to remain, 
And with Angels ever reign. 




ijjy. 



THE HEAVENLY STATE. 239 

To that Realm Thy Children call, 
O Thou righteous Judge of all ; 
Thee we seek, on Thee rely, 
Thee implore with frequent cry. 



IN THE FOUNT OF LIFE PERENNIAL. 



From Peter Damiani, and translated by Mrs. Charles, the author of the Schon- 
berg-Cotta Family. 



IN the Fount of life perennial the parch'd heart its 
thirst would slake, 
And the soui, in flesh imprison'd, longs her prison 

walls to break — ' 
Exile, seeking, sighing, yearning, in her fatherland to 
. wake. 

When with cares oppress'd and sorrows, only groans 

her grief can tell, 
Then she contemplates the glory which she lost when 

first she fell ; 
Present evil but the memory of the vanish'd good can 

swell. 

Who can utter what the pleasures and the peace un- 
broken are, 

Where arise the pearly mansions, shedding silvery 
light afar, 

Festive seats and golden roofs, which glitter like the 
evening star! 







&. 




240 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Wholly of fair stones most precious are those radiant 
structures made, 

With pure gold, like glass transparent, are those shin- 
ing streets inlaid, 

Nothing that defiles can enter, nothing that can soil 
or fade. 

Stormy winter, burning summer, rage within those 

regions never, 
But perpetual bloom of roses and unfading spring for 

ever ; 
Lilies gleam, the crocus glows, and dropping balms 

their scents deliver. 

Honey pure, and greenest pastures, this the land of 

promise is, 
Liquid odors soft distilling, perfumes breathing on 

the breeze ; 
Fruits immortal cluster always on the leafy fadeless 

trees. 

There no moon sounds chill and changing, there no 

stars with twinkling ray, 
For the Lamb of that blest city is at once the Sun 

and Day; 
Night and time are known no longer, day shall never 

fade away. 

There the saints like suns are radiant, like the sun at 

dawn they glow ; 
Crowned victors after conflict, all their joys together 

flow, 
And secure they count the battles where they fought 

the prostrate foe. 







-A 



THE HEAVENLY STATE. 24 1 

Every stain of flesh is cleansed, every strife is left be- 
hind, 

Spiritual are their bodies, perfect unity of mind; 

Dwelling in deep peace for ever, no offence or grief 
they find. 

Putting off their mortal vesture, in their Source their 

souls they steep — 
Truth by actual vision learning, on its form their gaze 

they keep — 
Drinking from the living Fountain draughts of living 

waters deep. 

Time, with all its alternations, enters not those hosts 

among; 
Glorious, wakeful, blest, no shade of chance or change 

o'er them is flung ; 
Sickness cannot touch the deathless, nor old age the 

ever young. 

There their being is eternal, things that cease have 

ceased to be ; 
All corruption there has perish'd, there they flourish 

strong and free : 
Thus mortality is swallow'd up of life eternally. 

Naught from them is hidden, knowing Him to whom 

all things are known, 
All the spirit's deep recesses, sinless, to eacn other 

shown — 
Unity of will and purpose, heart and mind for ever 

one. 

16 






? 




A*: 



242 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Diverse as their varied labors the rewards to each that 

fall, 
But Love, what she loves in others evermore her own 

doth call; 
Thus the several joy of each becomes the common joy 

of all. 

Where the body is, there ever are the eagles gathered, 
For the saints and for the angels one most blessed feast 

is spread — 
Citizens of either country living on the self-same bread. 

Ever fill'd, and ever seeking, what they have they still 

desire ; 
Hunger there shall fret them never, nor satiety shall 

tire — 
Still enjoying whilst aspiring, in their joy they still 

aspire. 

There the new song, new for ever, those melodious 

voices sing. 
Ceaseless streams of fullest music through those blessed 

regions ring ; 
Crowned victors ever bringi ng praises worthy of the 

King! 

Blessed who the King of heaven in His beauty thus 
behold, 

And beneath His throne rejoicing see the universe un- 
fold— 

Sun and moon, and stars and planets, radiant in His 
light unrolfd ! 




:& 



THE HEAVENLY STATE. 243 

Christ, the Palm of faithful victors ! of that city make 

me free ; 
When my warfare shall be ended, to its mansions lead 

Thou me, — 
Grant me, with its happy inmates, sharer of Thy gifts 

to be ! 

Let Thy soldier, yet contending, still be with Thy 

strength supplied ; 
Thou wilt not deny the quiet when the arms are laid 

aside ; 
Make me meet with Thee for ever in that country to 

abide. 



MY THIRSTY SOUL'S DESIRE. 



Another translation of the foregoing hymn of Peter Damiani — in the time of 
Queen Elizabeth. 



MY thirsty soul desires her drought 
At heauenly fountaines to refresh ; 
My prysoned minde would fayne be out 
Of chaynes and fetters of the flesh. 

She looketh vp vnto the state, 

From whence she downe by sin did slide 
She mournes the more the good she lost, 

For present ill she doth abide. 

She longs from rough and dangerous seas, 
To harbour in the hauen of blisse ; 

Where safe she anchors at her ease, 
And store of sweet contentment is. 







-itn 




244 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

From banishment she more and more 
Desires to see her countrey deare ; 

She sits and sends her sighes before, 
Her ioyes and treasures all be there. 

From Babilon she would returne, 
Vnto her home and towne of peace, 

Ierusalem, where ioyes abounde, 
Continue still and neuer cease. 

There blustering winter neuer blowes, 

Nor sommer's parching heate doth harme ; 

It neuer freezeth there, nor snowes ; 
The weather's euer temperate warme. 

The trees doe blossome, bud, and beare; 

The birds doe euer chirpe and sing; 
The fruit is mellow all the yeare : 

They haue an euerlasting spring. 

The pleasant gardens euer keep 

Their hearbes and flowers fresh and greene 
All sorts of dainty plants and fruites 

At all times there are to be seene. 

The riuer. wine most perfect flowes, 
More pleasant than the honnycombe 

Vpon whose bankes the sugar growes, 
Enclosed in reedes of sinamon. 

Her walles of jasper stones be built, 
Most rich and fayre that euer was ; 

Her streetes and houses pau'd and gilt 

With gold more cleare then christall glasse. 





<3&: 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 



245 



Her gates in equall distance be, 
And each a glistering margarite, 

Which commers in farre off may see — 
A gladsome and a glorious sight. 

Her sunne doth neuer 'clipse nor cloude ; 

Her moone doth neuer wax nor wane : 
The Lambe with light hath her endued, 

Whose glory pen cannot explaine. 

The glorious saintes her dwellers be, 
In numbers more than men can thinke ; 

So many in a company, 

As loue in likenes doth them linke. 

The starres in brightnes they surpasse ; 

In swiftnes, arrowes from a bowe ; 
In strength, in-firmnes, Steele or brasse ; 

In brightnes, fire ; in whitenes, snow. 

Theyr cloathing are more softe then silke, 
With girdles gilt of beaten golde ; 

They in their hands, as white as milke, 
Of palme triumphant branches holde. 

Theyr faces, shining like the sunne, 

Shoot forth their glorious gladsome beames 

The field is fought ; the battle won ; 

Their heads be crowned with diademes. 

Reward as vertue different is ; 

Distinct their ioyes and happines ; 
But each in ioy of other's blisse, 

Doth as his owne the. same possesse. 







-A- 




246 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

So each in glory doe abound, 
And all their glories doe excell : 

But where as all to each redound, 
Who can th' exceeding glory tell ? 

Triumphant warriers you may heare, 

Recount their daungers which doe cease ; 

And noble citizens euerywhere, 

Their happy gaines of ioy and peace. 

The King that heauenly pallace rules, 

Doth beare vpon his golden shield 
A crosse in signe of tryumph, gules, 
Erected in a uerdant field. 

His glory such as doth behoue 
Him in his manhood for to take, 

Whose Godhead earth and heauen aboue, 
And all that dwell therein, did make. 

Like friends, all partners are in blisse, 

With Christ their Lord and Master deare, 

Like spouses they the bridegroome kisse ; 
Who feasteth them with heauenly cheare ; 

With tree of life, and manna sweete, 

Which taste doth such a pleasure bring, 

As none to iudge thereof be meete, 

But they which banquet with the King. 

With cherubins their wings they mooue, 
And mount in contemplation hye ; 

With seraphins they burne in loue, 
The beames of glory be so nygh. 






jis. 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 247 

O sweet aspect ; vision of peace ; 

Happy regard and heauenly sight ; 
O endless ioy without surcease ; 

Perpetuall day which hath no night ! 

O well of weale ; fountaine of life ; 

A spring of euerlasting blisse ; 
Eternal sunne ; resplendant light ; 

And eminent cause of all that is ! 

Riuer of pleasure ; sea of delight ; 

Garden of glory -euer greene ; 
O glorious glasse, and mirrour bright, 

Wherein all truth is clearly seene ! 

O princely pallace, royall court ; 

Monarchall seate ; emperiall throne ! 
Where King of kings, and Soueraigne Lord, 

For euer ruleth all alone : 

Where all the glorious saints doe see 

The secrets of the Deity; 
The Godhead one, in persons three, 

The super-blessed Trinity. 

The depth of wisdome most profound, 

All puisant high sublimity ; 
The breadth of loue without all bound, 

In endlesse long eternity. 

The heauy earth belowe by kinde 

Alone ascends the mounting fire : 
Be this the centor of my minde, 

And lofty spheare of her desire. 





<4 



^ 



248 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The chafed deare doth take the foyle ; 

The tyred hare the thickes and wood : 
Be this the comfort of my toyle, 

My refuge, hope, and soueraigne good. 

The merchant cuts the seas for gaine ; 

The soldier serueth for renowne ; 
The tyllman plowes the ground for graine ; 

Be this my ioy and lasting crowne. 

The faulkner seekes to see a flight : 
The hunter beates to view the game : 

Long thou, my soule, to see this sight, 
And labour to enjoy the same. 

No one's without some one delight, 
Which he endeauours to attaine : 

Seeke thou, my soule, both day and night, 
This one, which euer shall remaine. 

This one containes all pleasures true — 
All other pleasures be but vaine : 

Bid thou the rest, my soule, adue, 
And seeke this one alone to gaine. 

Go count the grass vpon the ground, 
Or sandes that lye vpon the shore ; 

And when yee haue the number found, 
The ioyes hereof be many more. 

More thousand, thousand yeares they last, 
And lodge within the happy mynde ; 

And when so many yeares be past, 
Yet more and more be still behinde. 



<^ 





^ 



From the German. 



WILL it no pleasure be, 
When faith shall end in knowing, 
Hope to fruition growing, 

The Saviour's face to see ? 
To learn from Him the story, 
What vict'ries won. our glory — 
Will this no pleasure be ? 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 249 

Farre more they be than we can weene ; 

They doe our iudgment much excell : 
No ear hath heard, or eye hath seene ; 

No pen can write, no tongue can tell. 

An angel's tongue cannot recyte 

The endless ioy of heauenly blisse ; 
Which, being wholly infinite, 

Beyond all speech and writing is. 

We can imagine but a shade ; 

It neuer entred into thought, 
What ioys he hath enioyed, that made 

All ioys, and them that ioy, of nought. 

My soule cannot these ioys contayne ; 

Let her, Lord, enter into them, 
For euer with thee to remayne, 

Within thy towne, Ierusalem ! ■ 



WILL IT NO PLEASURE BE? 








A.. 



250 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Will it no pleasure be, 
When friends who went before us 
Our God shall there restore us, 

From pain and sickness free ? 
Where sorrows show no traces, 
To meet their glad embraces, 

Will this no pleasure be ? 

Will it no pleasure be, 
Where th' angel-chorus raises 
To God most high their praises, 

With seraphs to agree ? 
And when the skies are ringing, 
To join " Thrice holy ! " singing, 

Will this no pleasure be? 

Oh yes, there's pleasure there ! 
Away, earth's glittering bubbles, 
Your joys are full of troubles, 

Your bliss not worth the care. 
Then, friends, do not bewail me, 
When heart and flesh shall fail me, 

But think, there's pleasure there ! 





~ife 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 25 I 



NOW THE PILGRIM, SAD AND WEARY. 



From the German of A. Knapp. 



NOW the pilgrim, sad and weary, 
Finds here a desert wild and dreary, 
With shades of death and darkness filled ; 
Soon, with groves of palm surrounded, 
The peaceful city shall be founded, 
Which for his glory Christ shall build. 
In splendid colors dressed, 
On sapphires it shall rest ; 
Doors and windows 
Of crystal rare, and turrets fair 
Of richest gems, shall glitter there. 



There, amid this palace royal, 

A countless host, well tried and loyal, 

Shall see the glory of their Lord ; 
All their fears and sorrows ended, 
Shall they, with peace and joy attended, 
Receive from him their rich reward. 
The crown of righteousness 
Shall there his people bless ; 
No destroyer 
Shall thither steal to work their ill, 
But Christ will there His grace fulfil. 





4^ 




252 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

When 'twill be — seek not to know it ; 
Who guides in His own time will show it, 

And His own time is "always best. 
Heralds He abroad is sending, 
That they, to all His grace commending, 
May bring them all to seek His rest. 
Enough for us to know 
What He would have us do 
Till the harvest ; 
The world's wide field its fruits must yield, 
The ransom was for all revealed. 



Tell it now with joyful praises, — 

" The Prince of Life His palace raises ! '' 

O'er land and sea the tidings sound ; 
Not in vain His invitation ; 
The messengers of His salvation 
Proclaim it to the poor around. 
Beneath the burning sky 
They to their work apply, 
Daily sowing. 
His word He'll keep; though now they weep, 
With joy shall they the harvest reap. 



Seeing growth they are requited ; 
With tears of joy, with souls delighted, 

First-fruits they now are bringing on ; 
Where the ground to drought was given, 
Head, hands, and hearts, they lift to heaven, 

Admiring what the Lord has done. 







j& 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 253 

All fresh with morning dew, 

Green fields spring up to view, 
Breathing fragrance ; 
For bitter sighs glad songs arise, 
While hope anticipates the prize. 



But the Lord, by varied trial, 
Oft proves His herald's self-denial, 

And makes them wait, and toil, and mourn 
Oft will let fierce storms o'ertake them, 
To hunger, thirst, and want forsake them, 
To gloom their fairest prospects turn. 
In His own chosen way 
His wisdom He'll display, 
Clearly teaching, 
While deepest night brings on the light, 
That what He does is always right. 



Knowing this, shall fears beguile us ? 
Though traitors, leagued with foes, revile us, 

Our onward course let us pursue ; 
They that shame for Jesus bearing, 
Will persevere, His way preparing, 
Shall safely reach his glory too, 
There, with the Son of God, 
To join in blest abode 
All the pious, 
And freely own, through grace alone, 
Their works of love and faith were done. 






m 




254 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Ever shall thy praise be glorious, 
When, over all their ills victorious, 
Thy saints unite in tuneful strife. 
They, from death by Thee delivered, 
Shall from Thy love no more be severed ; 
Such is Thy will, Thou Prince of Life ! 
The world, Lord, rests on Thee, — 
Thy world with pity see ! 
Showing mercy 
To him whose days are prayer and praise, 
To him who yet in error strays. 



THE EVENING WATCH. 



Henry Vaughan. 



BODY. 

FAREWELL! I goe to sleep; but when 
The day-star springs, I'll wake again. 

SOUL. 
Goe, sleep in peace ; and when thou lyest 
Unnumbered in thy dust, when all this frame 
Is but one dramme, and what thou now descriest 

In sev'rall parts shall want a name, 
Then may His peace be with thee, and each dust 
Writ in His book, who ne'er betrayed man's trust ! 

BODY. 

Amen ! but hark, ere we two stray, — 
How many hours, dost think, 'till day? 






A 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 255 

SOUL. 
Ah, go ; thou'rt weak, and sleepie. Heaven 
Is a plain watch, and without figures winds 
All ages up ; who drew this circle, even 

He fills it ; dayes and hours are blinds. 
Yet this take with thee : the last gasp of time 
Is thy first breath, and man's eternal prime. 



BATHED IN UNFALLEN SUNLIGHT. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



BATHED in unfallen sunlight, 
Itself a sun-born gem, 
Fair gleams the glorious city, 
The new Jerusalem ! 
City fairest, 
Splendor rarest, 

Let me gaze on thee ! 

Calm in her queenly glory, 

She sits, all joy and light ; 
Pure in her bridal beauty, 
Her raiment festal-white ! 
Home of gladness, 
Free from sadness, 
Let me dwell in thee ! 

Shading her golden pavement ' 

The tree of life is seen, 
Its fruit-rich branches waving, 

Celestial evergreen. 







& 




256 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Tree of wonder, 
Let me under 

Thee forever rest ! 

Fresh from the throne of Godhead, 

Bright in its crystal gleam, 
Bursts out the living fountain, 
Swells on the living stream. 
Blessed river, 
Let me ever 

Feast my eye on thee ! 

Streams of true life and gladness, 
Spring of all health and peace ; 
No harps by thee hang silent, 
Nor happy voices cease. 
Tranquil river, 
Let me ever 

Sit and sing by thee ! 

River of God, I greet thee, 
Not now afar, but near; 
My soul to thy still waters 
Hastes in its thirstings here. 
Holy river, 
Let me ever 

Drink of only thee ! 





Jte 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 257 



I KNOW THE WALLS ARE JASPER. 



Helen L. Parmlee. 



I KNOW the walls are jasper, 
The palaces are fair, 
And to the sounds of harpings 
The saints are singing there ; 
I know that living waters 

Flow under fruitful trees: 
But oh, to make my heaven, 
It needeth more than these ! 

O, Heaven without my Saviour 

Would be no heaven to me ; 
Dim were the walls of jasper — 

Rayless the crystal sea. 
He gilds earth's darkest valleys 

With light, and joy, and peace : 
What then must be the radiance 

When Night and Death shall cease? 

Speed on, O lagging moments ! 

Come, birthday of the soul! 
How long the night appeareth, 

The hours, how slow they roll ! 
How sweet the welcome summons 

That greets the willing bride ! 
And when mine eyes behold Him, 

u I shall be satisfied." 
17 







-& 




258 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



NEVERMORE AND EVERMORE. 



From the Dublin University Magazine. 



TWO worlds there are. To one our eyes we strain, 
Whose magic joys we shall not see again ; 
Bright haze of morning veils its glimmering shore, 
Ah ! truly breathed we there 
Intoxicating air ; — 
Glad were our hearts in that sweet realm of Never- 
more ! 

The lover, there, drank her delicious breath, 
Whose love has yielded since, to change or death ; 
The mother kissed her child, whose days are o'er. 

Alas ! too soon have fled 

The ne'er returning dead ; 
We see them — visions strange — amid the Nevermore. 

The merry songs some maidens used to sing, 

The brown, brown hair, that once was wont to cling 

To temples long clay-cold— to the very core 

They strike our weary hearts ! 

As some vexed memory starts 
From that long-faded land, the realm of Nevermore! 

It is perpetual summer there — but here 

Sadly do we remember rivers clear, 

And hare-bells quivering on the meadow floor; 
For brighter bells and bluer, 
For tender hearts and truer, 

People that happy land — the land of Nevermore ! 




1&. 



^w 



THE HEAVENLY STATE. 259 

Upon the frontier of this shadowy land 
We, pilgrims of eternal sorrow, stand ; — 
What realm lies forward, with its happier store 

Of forests green and deep, 

Of valleys hushed in sleep, 
And lakes most peaceful ? 'Tis the land of Evermore ! 

Very far off its marbled cities seem ; 
Very far off — beyond our sensual dream, 
Its woods unruffled by the wild wind's roar. 

Yet does the turbulent surge 

Howl on its very verge — 
One moment, and we breathe within the Evermore ! 

They whom we loved and lost so long ago, 

Dwell in those cities, far from mortal woe, 

Haunt those fresh woodlands, whence sweet whispers 

Eternal peace have they ; [soar. 

God wipes their tears away ; 
They drink that Fount of life which flows for Evermore ! 

Thither we hasten, through these rivers dim ; 
But lo ! the white wings of the Seraphim 
Shine in the sunset on that joyous shore ! 

There, our light hearts shall know 

The life of long ago ! — ■ 
The sorrow-burdened past shall fade for Evermore ! 







A- 




260 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



WHEN WE REACH A QUIET DWELLING. 



From the Changed Cross. 



" All the way by which the Lord thy God led thee." 

WHEN we reach a quiet dwelling 
On the strong eternal hills, 
And our praise to Him is swelling, 

Who the vast creation fills : 
When the paths of prayer and duty 

And affliction all are trod, 
And we wake and see the beauty 
Of our Saviour and our God : 

With the light of resurrection, 

When our changed bodies glow, 
And we gain the full perfection 

Of the bliss begun below ; 
When the life that flesh obscureth 

In each radiant form shall shine, 
And the joy that aye endureth 

Flashes forth in beams divine : 

While we wave the palms of glory 
Through the long eternal years, 

Shall we e'er^ forget the story 
Of our mortal griefs and fears ? 




A 



^B- 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 261 

Shall we e'er forget the sadness 
And the clouds that hung so dim, 

When our hearts are filled with gladness 
And our tears are dried by Him ! 

Shall the memory be banished 

Of His kindness and His care, 
When the wants and woes are vanished, 

Which He loved to soothe and share — 
All the way by which He brought us, 

All the grievings which He bore, 
All-the patient love He taught us, 

Shall we think of them no more ? 

Yes ! we surely shall remember 

How He quickened us from death : 
How He fanned the dying ember 

With His Spirit's glowing breath 
We shall read the tender meaning 

Of the sorrows and alarms 
As we trod the desert, leaning 

On His everlasting arms. 

And His rest will be the dearer 

When we think of weary ways, 
And His light will seem the clearer 

As we muse on cloudy days. 
Oh ! 'twill be a glorious morrow 

To a dark and stormy day ; 
We shall recollect our sorrow 

As the streams that pass away. 






=9& 




262 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



BRIGHT SUN, THOU DOST BLESSEDLY 
SHINE. 



Thomas H. Gill. 



The city hath no need of the sun neither of the moon to shine in it : for the glory 
of God did lighten it." 

BRIGHT sun ! thou dost blessedly shine ; 
Fair earth doth rejoice in thy light ; 
She draweth her beauty from thine : 

Thou makest her gladsome and bright. 
We bless thy strong splendor at noon, 

We bless thy sweet radiance at even, 
And welcome the soft-shining moon 

When earth to her bright sway is given. 

But fairer, but fuller the light 

Through the Heavenly City that streams ; 
Jerusalem shineth all bright 

But not with the sun's golden beams : 
Your smile, sun and moon, she can spare ; 

Ye bear in her glory no part : 
Thou only, dear Lord, beamest there 
• Her glory, her sunshine Thou art. 

Her smile from Thy beams she doth take ; 

Her light in Thy light she doth see ; 
Her music and mirth Thou dost make ; 

Her beauty she borrows from Thee. 





THE HEAVENLY STATE. 263 

All bathed in the Glory Divine 

Still, still she abides in Thy light ; 
Her Sun never ceaseth to shine, 

Her day never yieldeth to night. 

Here bright are the beams of Thy sun : 

Here sweet are the rays of Thy grace : 
But there both the glories are one, 

Are one in the Light of Thy face. 
The Sun in their souls that did glow 

Now bright on Thy saints doth arise ; 
The joy of their hearts here below 

Becomes the delight of their eyes. 

They look on the Lord of their love, 

The Lamb that was slain they behold ; 
He maketh the glory above ; 

He lighteth the city of gold. 
They gaze on their Sun and grow bright ; 

His beauty. His splendor they wear ; 
They see the ineffable sight : 

The unspeakable glory they share. 

Lord ! here in my heart dost Thou shine ? 

Art Thou my soul's sunlight below? 
O then in that City Divine 

Full, full on mine eyes Thou wilt glow. 
For me as for all the glad throng 

Thou makest Jerusalem bright ; 
And still the glad stream of our song 

Flows on midst the bliss of Thy light. 






A. 




264 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THERE IS A RIVER PURE AND BRIGHT. 



James Montgomery. 



" There is a river the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God." 

THERE is a river pure and bright, 
Whose streams make glad the heavenly plains, 
Where, in eternity of light, 
The city of our GOD remains. 

Built by the word of His command, 

With His unclouded presence blest, 
Firm as His throne, the bulwarks stand ; 

There is our home, our hope, our rest. 

Thither let fervent faith aspire ; 

Our treasure and our heart be there : 
Oh! for a seraph's wing of fire! 

Or rather mightier wings of prayer, — 

We reach at once that last retreat, 

And, ranged among the ransom'd throng, 

Fall with the elders at His feet, 

Whose Name alone inspires their song. 

Ah ! soon, how soon ! our spirits droop ; 

Unwont the air of heaven to breathe ; 
Yet GOD, in very deed will stoop, - 

And dwell Himself with men beneath. 






jgg 



JW 



THE HEAVENLY STATE. 265 



Come to thy living temples, then, 
As in the ancient times appear; 

Let earth be Paradise again, 

And man, O God ! thine image here. 



GLORIOUS THINGS OF THEE ARE SPOKEN. 



John Newton. 



GLORIOUS things of thee are spoken, 
Zion, city of our God ; 
He, whose word cannot be broken, 
Formed thee for His own abode : 

On the Rock of Ages founded, 
What can shake thy sure repose ? 

With salvation's walls surrounded, 
Thou mayst smile at all thy foes. 

See, the streams of living waters, 

Springing from eternal love, 
Well supply thy sons and daughters, 

And all fear of want remove : 

Who can faint while such a river 
Ever flows their thirst to assuage; 

Grace, which, like the Lord the giver, 
Never fails from age to age ? 

Round each habitation hovering, 

See the cloud and fire appear, 
For a glory and a covering ; 

Showing that the Lord is near. 






A 




266 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Saviour, if of Zion's city 

I, through grace, a member am, 
Let the world deride or pity, 

I will glory in Thy name. 

Fading is the worldling's pleasure, 
All his boasted pomp and show ; 

Solid joys and lasting treasure 
None but Zion's children know. 



A BEAUTIFUL LAND BY THE SPOILER 
UNTROD. 

'"l"^ HERE'S a Beautiful Land by the Spoiler untrod, 

J- Unpolluted by sorrow or care ; 
It is lighted alone by the presence of God, 

Whose throne, and whose temple are there. 
Its crystalline streams, with a murmuring flow, 

Meander through valleys so green, 
And its mountains of jasper are bright in the glow 

Of a splendor no mortal hath seen. 

And throngs of glad singers with jubilant breath, 

Make the air with their melodies rife ; 
And one known on earth as the Angel of Death, 

Shines here as the Angel of Life ! 
An infinite tenderness beams from his eyes ; 

On his brow is an infinite calm, 
And his voice, as it thrills through the depths of the 
skies, 

Is as sweet as the Seraphim's psalm. 






THE HEAVENLY STATE. 267 

Through the amaranth groves of the Beautiful Land 

Walk the souls who were faithful in this ; 
And their foreheads, star-crowned, by zephyrs are 
fanned, 

That evermore murmur of bliss ; 
They taste the rich fruitage that hangs from the trees, 

And breathe the sweet odors of flowers 
More fragrant than ever were kissed by the breeze 

In Araby's loveliest bowers. 

Old Prophets, whose words were a spirit of flame 

Blazing out o'er the darkness of Time ; 
And martyrs, whose courage no tortures could tame, 

Nor turn from their purpose sublime ; 
And Saints and Confessors, a numberless throng, 

Who were loyal to Truth and to Right, 
And left, as they walked through the darkness of 
Wrong, 

Their footprints encircled with light. 

And the dear little children, who went to their rest 

Ere their lives had been sullied by sin, 
While the Angel of Morning still tarried a guest, 

Their spirits' pure temple within, — 
All are there — all are there — in the Beautiful Land, 

The land by the Spoiler untrod. 
And their foreheads, star-crowned, by zephyrs are 
fanned, 

That blow from the Gardens of God ! 

My soul hath looked in through the gateway of dreams, 
On the city all paven with gold, 






.^ 



268 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And though it still waits on this desolate strand, 

A Pilgrim and stranger on earth, 
Yet it knew in that glimpse of the Beautiful Land, 

That it gazed on the home of its birth ! 



AROUND THEM, BRIGHT WITH ENDLESS 
SPRING. 



From the Latin of Augustine. 



AROUND them, bright with endless spring perpet- 
ual roses bloom — 
Warm balsams gratefully exude luxurious perfume, 
And crocuses and lilies white shine dazzling in the sun ; 
Green meadows yield their harvests rich, and streams 

with honey run ; 
Unbroken droop the laden boughs with heavy fruitage 

bent — 
Of incense and of odors strange the air is redolent ; 
And neither sun nor moon nor stars, disperse their 

changeful light, 
But the Lamb's eternal glory makes the happy city 

bright. 

THERE IS A PLACE OF SACRED REST. 



Robert Turnbull. 



THERE is a place of sacred rest, 
Far, far beyond the skies, 
Where beauty smiles eternally, 
And pleasure never dies, — 







jftt 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 

My Father's house, my heavenly home, 
Where " many mansions" stand, 

Prepared, by hands divine, for all 
Who seek the better land. 

When tossed upon the waves of life, 

With fear on every side, — 
When fiercely howls the gathering storm, 

And foams the angry tide, — 
Beyond the storm, beyond the gloom, 

Breaks forth the light of morn, 
Bright beaming from my Father's house, 

To cheer the soul forlorn. 

In that pure home of tearless joy 

Earth's parted friends shall meet, 
With smiles of love that never fade, 

And blessedness complete. 
There, there, adieus are sounds unknown : 

Death frowns not on that scene ; 
But life and glorious beauty shine, 

Untroubled and serene. 



:6g 



I KNOW NOT WHERE THOSE MANSIONS 

LIE. 



We would see Jesus.' 



I KNOW not where those blessed mansions lie 
That Christ departed to prepare on high ; 
Nor where the new Jerusalem doth stand, 
The glorious centre of a happy land ; 





f 



^= 




270 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Nor the full meaning of that tree of life, 
The fruits unceasing, leaves with blessing rife ; 
That crystal stream of life is still to me 
A beautiful, a baffling mystery. 

Then those bright spirits, from the body free, 
How can they worship there as now they be? 
'And how with one another can they speak? — 
The answer to all this I vainly seek. 

These things I know not, yet I rest in this : 
That Christ is there, and seeing Him is bliss. 
For ever, Saviour, let me look on Thee, 
And life shall be one endless ecstasy! 



HER STREETS WITH BURNISHED GOLD 
ARE PAVED. 



Francis Quarles. 



HER streets with burnished gold are paved round 
Stars lie like pebbles scattered on the ground. 
Pearl mixt with onyx, and the jasper stone 
Made jewelled causeways to be trampled on. 
There shines no sun, no moon by night, 
The palace glory is the palace light ; 
There is no time to measure motion by 
Where time is swallowed in Eternity ; 
Wry-mouthed disdain and corner-hunting lust, 
And toady-faced fraud and beetle-browed distrust, 
Soul-boiling rage and trouble stale sedition, 
And giddy doubt and goggle-eyed suspicion, 







4fc 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 2/1 

And lumpish sorrow, and dangerous fear 

Are banished thenee, and death's a stranger there. 

But simple love and sempiternal joys 

Whose sweetness never gloats nor fulness cloys ; 

Where face to face our ravished eye shall see 

Great God, that glorious One in Three 

And Three in One — and seeing Him shall bless Him, 

And blessing love Him — and in love possess Him. 



ALL ABOUT HIM SHEDDETH GLORIOUS 
LIGHT. 



Edmund Spenser. 



HIS sceptre is the rod of Righteousnesse, 
With which He bruseth all His foes to dust, 
And the great dragon strongly doth represse, 
Under the rigour of His iudgment iust ; 
His seate is Truth, to which the faithfull trust. 
From whence proceed her beames so pure and bright, 
That all about Him sheddeth glorious light. 

But that immortall light which there doth shine 
Is many thousand times more bright, more cleare, 

More excellent, more glorious, more divine, 
Through which to God all mortall actions here, 
And even the thoughts of men, do plaine appeare ; 

For from th' Eternall Truth it doth proceed, 

Through heavenly vertue which her beams doe breed. 

With the great glorie of that wondrous light 

His throne is all encompassed around, 
And hid in his owne brightnesse from the sight 






j£g. 




272 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Of all that look thereon with eyes unsound ; 

And underneath his feet are to be found 
Thunder, and lightning, and tempestuous fyre, 
The instruments of his avenging yre. 

There, in his bosome, Sapience doth sit, 
The soveraine dearling of the Deity, 

Clad like a queene, in royall robes most fit 
For so great powre and peerelesse majesty, 
And all with gemmes and iewels gorgeously 

Adorned, that brighter than the starres appeare, 

And make her native brightnesse seem more cleare. 

And on her head a crown of purest gold 
Is set, in signe of highest soverainty ; 

And in her hand a sceptre she doth hold, 

With which she rules the house of God on hy, 
And menageth the ever-moving sky, 

And in the same these lower creatures all 

Subiected to her powre imperiall. 



IN SEEING HIM THEY FIND REPOSE. 



From the Italian of Dante, by I. C. Wright. 



ALIGHT there is above which plainly shows 
The great Creator to the creature, who 
In seeing him alone can find repose, 
And in a circle spreads to such degree, 

That for the sun would its circumference 
A girdle of too great dimensions be ; 







THE HEAVENLY STATE. 273 

All its appearance one vast ray of light 

Reflected from the swiftest heaven, which thence 
Derives both its existence and its might. 
And as a cliff looks down upon the bed 

Of some clear stream, to see how richly crowned 
With flowers and foliage is its lofty head, 
So, all from earth who hither e'er returned, 

Seated on more than thousand thrones around, 
Within the Eternal Light themselves discerned ; 
And if the very lowest tier receives 

A light so great, how wonderful must be 
This rose expanded in its utmost leaves ! 



LORD OF THE WORLDS ABOVE. 



Isaac Watts. 



LORD of the worlds above, 
How pleasant and how fair 
The dwellings of thy love, 
Thy earthly temples, are ; 
To thine abode 
My heart aspires, 
With warm desires 
To see my God. 

The sparrow for her young 
With pleasure seeks her nest, 

And wandering swallows long 
To find their wonted rest ; 
18 







jfc 




74 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

My spirit faints, 
With equal zeal 
To rise and dwell 
Among thy saints. 

Oh happy souls that pray 

Where God appoints to hear ; 
Oh happy men that pay 

Their constant service there ; 
They praise thee still, 
And happy they 
That love the way 
To Zion's hill. 

They go from strength to strength, 

Through this dark vale of tears, 
Till each arrives at length, 
Till each in heaven appears. 
Oh glorious seat, 
When God our King 
Shall thither bring 
Our willing feet. 



GIVE ME THE LOWEST PLACE. 



Christina Rossetti. 



GIVE me the lowest place : not that I dare 
Ask for that lowest place, but Thou hast died 
That I might live and share 
Thy glory by Thy side. 








THE HEAVENLY STATE. 2/5 

Give me the lowest place : or if for me 

That lowest place too high, make one more low 

Where I may sit and see 
My God, and love Thee so. 



THE VISION OF JOHN, 



A Paraphrase on the 21st and 226. Chapters of Revelation. By Ckammond 
Kennedy. 



I JOHN, a servant of the Lord, 
In Patmos' lonely isle was bound ; 
But Christ was there, and in His love 
Deep joy in banishment I found. 

He sent an Angel to reveal 

The glories of the upper sphere, 

Where countless hosts, like radiant stars, 
Throughout immensity appear. 

I saw Jerusalem descend, 

God's glory round the city shone 

Bright as a diamond in the sun ; 
Her light was like a jasper-stone. 

I then beheld twelve pearly gates- 
Twelve Angel-watchmen standing there 

How clear the walls' foundations were ! 
The silver moon's not half so fair! 






A 




2/6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The wall was built of jasper-stone, 
O'er its bright surface Seraphs trod ; 

And streets of burnished gold adorned 
The glorious city of my God. 

No gorgeous temple met my gaze ; 

Where veiled Seraphim bow low 
Before the Throne, I only saw 

A spotless Lamb, as white as snow. 

He was their temple — at His shrine 
Were kneeling nations bathed in light ; 

And kings before Him prostrate fell, 
They owned His gentleness and might. 

A river clear as crystal flowed 

From out the great white Throne of God. 
And rippling through the golden streets, 

Its murmuring music sent abroad. 

The branches of the Tree of Life 

Drooped o'er the peaceful, limpid stream, 

While, hanging in celestial light, 
The fruit in loveliness did gleam. 



fc> 



And those who taste the leaves that wave 
Above Life's river, shall be healed ; 

The curse of sin these leaves destroy : 
This blessed truth the Lord hath sealed ! 

The saints who dwell in Paradise 
No candle need, or shining sun ; 

For in the light of Jesus' love 
A brighter glory they have won. 




? 




.Ujfey 




THE HEAVENLY STATE. 277 

That glory, like that glory's Source, 

Can never, never fade away ; 
The hosts who see His face, behold 

The sun of an eternal day ! 

" glorious truth ! " the Angel cried, 
" These sayings faithful are and true ; 

For I am sent these things to show 
To God's elect, by showing you ! " 

Then adoration filled my soul, 

Before the Angel's feet I fell, 
And -would have worshipped, but he said, 

" Arise, arise, thou dost not well: 

" For I thy fellow-servant am, 

The prophets' pathway I have trod, 

And kept the sayings of this book : 
My brother, rise and worship GOD." 



fa 










jig. 





INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 



I beheld, and lo, a great multitude which no man could number, of all nations, 
and people, and tongues, stood before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in 
white robes, and palms in'their hands. — Rev. 7 : 9. 

These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their 
robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. — Rev. 7 : 14. 

Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he 
shall go no more out. — Rev. 3 : 12. 




^f 






_4*St 




<§ 



-Tl^d 





_lj^ 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN, 



A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM." 



Mrs. May Riley Smith. Contributed to " Heaven in Song." 



" r I A HE land is wondrous fair," the Angel said ; 

J- " Its sapphire skies are wrought with links of gold, 
Its jewelled gates admit nor heat, nor cold ; 
And all along the way that you shall tread 
A perfume marvellously sweet is shed 
From lilies that eternally unfold." 



The lovely woman raised her timid face 
And to the Messenger of Death she spoke : 
" I know that human right can ne'er invoke 
A vision of such rare surpassing grace 
As those fair mansions in the Heavenly Place ; 
But Life and I have never friendship broke. 

Therefore, I fain would stay,'' she pleaded low. 
The Angel's face wore nothing of command : 
He smiling said " behold unarmed I stand, 
I left behind my arrows and my bow, 
I shall not force you, lovely one, to go, 
I only wait till you shall clasp my hand. 





=ltl 




282 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

But see ! e'en now your eyes are wet with tears ! 
Come where a Holy Hand will wipe them dry. 
O, be my bride, my own beloved ! and I 
Will kiss away your doubtings and your fears 
And lead you gently through the eternal years, 
And prove a love that ne'er will change or die !" 

The woman shrank from his caressing hand. 
" But life hath loyal love as well," she said ; 
" A trusting heart would break if I were dead : 
A faithful foot would track me to your land, 
And at the gates of pearl would waiting stand. 
This life is fair and sweet to me/' she said. 

" But human love is frail as bended reed," 

The Angel urged, " They will not mourn you long : 

In Heaven your voice is needed in the song, 

On earth another one can fill your place. 

Within my bosom hide your weeping face, 

And let me bear you to the waiting throng.'' 

" Nay, nay, sweet Angel ! Spare me this alarm, 

For I am timid of the lonesome way! 

A voice I love is begging me to stay, 

A precious hand is clinging to my arm, — 

A hand that never brought me pain or harm. — 

O, leave me now, and come another day ! " 

The Angel drew her close and whispered sweet, 

" Dear Heart ! the streets are fair with children there. 







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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 283 

God's sunlight hides its kisses in their hair, 
And everywhere in Heaven, a child you meet." 
The woman clasped his hand — and toward the street 
That's " sweet with children " smiling went the pair. 

Springfield, Ills. January 8tk, 1 8 72. 



STARS OF GLORY, LIGHTS OF HEAVEN. 



A Paraphrase on St. Augustine. By Sophia May Eckley. 



OH ! stars of glory, lights of heaven ! 
Shed down on me your mystic light, 
Illume the storms that round me threaten 
Reveal the perils of the night, 

Through which my barque of life is steering 
So frail, — to pirates oft exposed : 
Guard it from rocks and reefs of peril 
Till in the eternal port enclosed. 

The little freight is moor'd in safety 
Which I have tried to garner here, 
In commerce spiritual hoping 
It yet may reach the haven dear. 

Then stars of glory, lights of Heaven, 
Shed down on me your mystic light, 
Guide me, O guide me to the haven 
Where Faith is swallowed up in Sight 







jgfc 




284 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



WHY DO WE CALL THEM LOST? 



From the Church of England Magazine. 



THE loved and lost!" why do we call them lost? 
Because we miss them from our onward road ? 
God's unseen angel o'er our pathway crost, 
Looked on us all, and loving them the most, 

Straightway relieved them from life's weary load. 

They are not lost : they are within the door 
That shuts out loss, and every hurtful thing — 

With angels bright, and loved ones gone before, 

In their Redeemer's presence evermore, 

And God himself their Lord and Judge and King. 

A poor wayfarer, leading by the hand 

A little child, had halted by a well 
To wash from off her feet the clinging sand, 
And tell the tired boy of that bright land 

Where, this long journey past, they longed to dwell, 

When lo ! the Lord who many mansions had 
Drew near and looked upon the suffering twain, 

Then pitying spake, " Give me the little lad ; 

In strength renewed, and glorious beauty clad, 
I'll bring him with me when I come again." 




i* 





atfifc. 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 285 

Did she make answer selfishly and wrong — 

" Nay, but the woes I feel he too must share?" 
Oh rather, bursting into grateful song, 
She went her way rejoicing, and made strong 
To struggle on, since he was freed from care. 

We will do likewise : death hath made no breach 
In love and sympathy, in hope and trust ; 

No outward sign or sound our ears can reach, 

But there's an inward unspoken speech 

That greets us still, though mortal tongues be dust. 

It bids us do the work that they laid down — 

Take up the song where they broke off the strain ; 
So journeying till we reach the heavenly town 
Where are laid up our treasures and our crown, 
And our lost loved ones will be found again. 



"SUFFER THEM TO COME TO ME." 



From Lyra Anglicana. 



" Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not ; for of such is the 
kingdom of heaven." 

ALL along the mighty ages, 
All adown the solemn time, 
They have taken up their homeward 
March to that serener clime, 







=& 




286 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



Where the watching, waiting angels 
Lead them from the shadow dim, 

To the brightness of His presence 
Who has called them unto Him. 

They are going — only going — 

Out of pain and into bliss — 
Out of sad and sinful weakness 

Into perfect holiness. 
Snowy brows — no care shall shade them ; 

Bright eyes — tears shall never dim ; 
Rosy lips — no time shall fade them ; 

Jesus called them unto Him. 

Little hearts forever stainless — 

Little hands as pure as they — 
Little feet by angels guided 

Never a forbidden way ! 
They are going, ever going ! 

Leaving many a lonely spot ; 
But 'tis Jesus who has called them — 

" Suffer, and forbid them not." 






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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 287 



WHOM HAVE I IN HEAVEN BUT THEE?" 



Francis Quarles. 



•* Whom have I in heaven but Thee ? and there is none upon earth that I desire 
beside Thee." 

I LOVE, (and have some cause to love) the earth ; 
She is my Maker's creature, therefore good ; 
She is my mother, for she gave me birth ; 

She is my tender nurse, she gives me food ; 
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with Thee ? 
Or what's my mother, or my nurse, to me ? 

I love the air ; her daily sweets refresh 

My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me ; 

Her shrill-mouthed choir sustain me with their flesh ; 
And with their Polyphonian notes delight me : 

But what's the air, or all the sweets that she 

Can bless my soul withal, compared to Thee ? 

I love the sea ; she is my fellow-creature, 

My careful purveyor : she provides my store ; 

She walls me round ; she makes my diet greater ; 
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore : 

But, Lord of oceans, when compared with Thee, 

What is the ocean, or her wealth, to me? 

Without Thy presence, earth gives no reflection ; 

Without Thy presence, sea affords no treasure ; 
Without Thy presence, air's a rank infection ; 

Without Thy presence, heaven itself s no pleasure ; 






yfef 




288 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

If not possessed, if not enjoyed in Thee, 
What's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven, to me? 

•Without Thy presence, wealth is bags of cares ; 

Wisdom but folly ; joy, disquiet, sadness ; 
Friendship is treason, and delights are snares ; 

Pleasure's but pain, and mirth but pleasing madness ; 
Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be, 
Nor have their being, when compared with Thee. 

In having all things, and not Thee, what have I ? 

Not having Thee, what have my labors got ? 
Let me enjoy but Thee, what farther crave I ? 

And having Thee alone, what have I not ? 
I wish not sea, nor land ; nor would I be 
Possessed of heaven, heaven unpossessed of Thee! 



STILL THOU ART MINE OWN, 



By Paul Gerhardt: Translated by Catherine Winkworth. 



The following touching and beautiful stanzas were written by Paul Gerhardt in 
1650, on the death of his son. 

THOU'RT mine, yes, still thou art mine own ! 
Who tells me thou art lost ? 
But yet thou art not mine alone, 

I own that He who cross'd 
My hopes, hath greatest right in thee ; 
Yea, though He ask and take from me 
Thee, O my son, my heart's delight, 
My wish, my thought, by day and night. 




4l£l- 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 289 

Ah might I wish, ah might I choose, 

Then thou, my star shouldst live, 
And gladly for thy sake I'd lose 

All else that life can give. 
Oh fain I'd say : Abide with me, 
The sunshine of my house to be, 
No other joy but this I crave, 
To love thee, darling, to my grave ! 

Thus saith my heart, and means it well, 

God meaneth better still ; 
My love is more than words can tell, 

His love is greater still ; 
I am a father, He the Head 
And Crown of fathers, whence is shed 
The life and loVe from which have sprung 
All blessed ties in old and young. 

I long for thee, my son, my own, 

And He who once hath given, 
Will have thee now beside His throne, 

To live with Him in heaven. 
I cry, Alas ! my light, my child ! 
But God hath welcome on him smiled, 
And said, " My child I keep thee near, 
For there is nought but gladness here." 

O blessed word, O deep decree, 

More holy than we think ! 
With God no grief or woe can be, 

No bitter cup to drink, 
19 





A 




29O HEAVEN IN SONG. 

No sickening hopes, no want or care, 
No hurt can ever reach him there ; 
Yes, in that Father's sheltered home 
I know that sorrow cannot come. 

"We pass our nights in wakeful thought 

For our dear children's sake ; 
All day our anxious toil hath sought 

How best for them to make 
A future safe from care or need, 
Yet seldom do our schemes succeed ; 
How seldom does their future prove 
What we had planned for those we love ! 

How many a child of promise fair 

Ere now hath gone astray, 
By ill example taught to dare 

Forsake Christ's holy way. 
O fearful the reward is then, 
The wrath of God, the scorn of men ! 
The bitterest tears that e'er are shed 
Are his who mourns a child misled. 

But now I need not fear for thee, 

Where thou art, all is well ; 
For thou thy Father's face doth see 

With Jesus thou dost dwell ! 
Yes, cloudless joys around him shine, 
His heart shall never ache like mine, 
He sees the radiant armies glow 
That keep and guide us here below. 







j& 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 29I 

He hears their singing evermore, 

His little voice too sings, 
He drinks of wisdom deepest love, 

He speaks of secret things, 
That we can never see or know 
Howe'er we seek or strive below. 
While yet amid the mists we stand 
That veil this dark and tearful land. 

O that I could but watch afar, 

And hearken but awhile 
To that sweet song that hath no jar, 

And see his heavenly smile, 
As he doth praise the holy God 
Who made him pure for that abode ! 
In tears of joy full well I know 
This burdened heart would overflow. 

And I should say : Stay there, my son, 

My wild laments are o'er, 
O well for thee that thou hast won, 

I call thee back no more ; 
But come, thou fiery chariot, come, 
And bear me swiftly to that home 
Where he with many a loved one dwells, 
And evermore of gladness tells ! 

Then be it as my Father wills, 

I will not weep for thee ; 
Thou livest, joy thy spirit fills, 

Pure sunshine thou dost see, 







-i|g 




292 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The sunshine of eternal rest ; 

Abide my child where thou art blest ; 

I with our friends will onward fare, 

And when God wills, shall find thee there. 



WHERE I SHALL WITH MY JESUS BE. 



J. Franck. 



ONE who is weary with this load, 
Faint with the sun, 
Would fain have done, 
And craves long shadows on the road ; 
That after so much labor past 
He may sleep sweet and sound at last. 
But all my longing is with Thee, 
Jesus, my only rest, to be ! 

Another doth pursue his trade 

By wave and cliff, 

Where his frail skiff 
Is tempest tossed and he afraid. 
But I will faith-wings spread, and fly 
Up, past the star-hills of the sky ! 
For, Jesus, Thou alone shall be 
The end of pilgrimage to me. 

Come, death ! sleep's only brother thou 

Come, take the helm 

And through thy realm 
To the sure harbor guide my prow. 






; * 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 293 

He may repel thee who doth fear ; 
But I rejoice to see thee near, 
For thou alone canst usher me, 
Where I shall with my Jesus be ! 



"WOMAN, WHY WEEPEST THOU? 



Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe. [Dedicated to the memory of "Annie," who 
died at Milan, June 6, i860.] 



" Jesus saith unto her, ' Woman, why weepest thou ? whom seekest thou ? " 
She, supposing him to be the gardener, said unto him : ' Sir, if thou have borne him 
hence, tell me where thou hast laid him.' " 

IN the fair gardens of celestial peace, 
Walketh a Gardener in meekness clad ; 
Fair are the flowers that wreath his dewy locks, 
And his mysterious eyes are sweet and sad. 

Fair are the silent foldings of his robes, 
Falling with saintly calmness at his feet ; 

And when he walks, each floweret to his will 
With living pulse of sweet accord doth beat. 

Every green leaf thrills to its tender heart, 
In the mild summer radiance of his eye ; — 

No fear of storm, or bold, or bitter frost, 

Shadows the flowerets when their sun is nigh. 

And all our pleasant haunts of earthly love 
Are nurseries to those gardens of the air ; 

And his far-darting eye, with starry beam, 
Watcheth the growing of his treasures there. 







4> 



294 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

We call them ours, o'erwept with selfish tears, 

O'erwatched with restless longings night and day ; 

Forgetful of the high, mysterious right 

He holds to bear our cherished plants away. 

But when some sunny spot in those bright fields 
Needs the fair presence of an added flower, 

Down sweeps a starry angel in the night ; — 

At morn, the rose has vanished from our bower. 

Where stood our tree, our flower, there is a grave ! 

Blank, silent, vacant : but in worlds above — 
Like a new star outblossom'd in the skies — 

The angels hail an added flower of love. 

Yes, the sweet Gardener hath borne her hence — 
Nor must thou ask to take her thence awa^ ; 

Thou shalt behold her in some coming hour, 
Full-blossomed in his fields of cloudless day. 



" EQUAL UNTO THE ANGELS." 

EQUAL to Angels are our beloved ! 
Christ has redeemed them— His promise is passed, 
A noontide of glory has opened upon them, 
As long as Eternity's cycles shall last. 
Equal to Angels ! Oh, could we but know 
The bliss that surrounds them, how gladly we'd go ! 





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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 



295 



Equal to Angels are our beloved ! 

With the blessed of all ages who've lived and who've 

died ; 
The children of Heaven, adopted and pardoned ! 
What more can we wish for our loved ones beside ? 
Equal to Angels ! exalted and pure, 
Their triumph through Jesus is lasting and sure ! 

Equal to Angels are our beloved ! 
All radiant with beauty in garments of white, 
For " children of God,'" must ever be spotless, 
Beholding His face, in that Heavenly Light ! 
Equal to Angels ! Oh never to die ! 
Death has been conquered forever on high. 

Equal to Angels are our beloved ! 

Reunion is certain, we shall meet again ! 

Those bright cheering words of divine consolation, 

Ne'er could have by Jesus been spoken in vain ! 

" Equal to Angels ! " Then trust in the Lord, 

For they are His children — and He is their God ! 



ANGELS BRIGHT, ALL GLISTENING GLO- 
RIOUS. 



Edmund Spenser. 

ANGELS bright, 
All glistening glorious, in their Maker's light ; 

To them the heaven's illimitable height 

(Not this round Heaven, which we from hence behold, 

Adorned with thousand lamps of burning light, 






4te 




296 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And with ten thousand gemmes of shining gold,) 
He gave as their inheritance to hold, 
That they might serve Him in eternal blisse 
And be partakers of those ioys of His. 

There they, in their trinall triplicities 
About Him wait, and on His will depend, 
Either with nimble wings to cut the skies 
When He them on His messages doth send, 
Or on His own dread presence to attend, 
Where they behold the giory of His light 
And caroll hymns of love, both day and night. 

Both day and night is unto them all one ; 
For He, His beams doth unto them extend, 
That darknesse their appeareth never none ; 
Ne hath their day, ne hath their blisse an end, 
But There, their termelesse time in pleasure spend ; 
Ne ever should their happinesse decay, 
Had not they dar'd their Lord to disobey. 



WHAT MEANS YON BLAZE ON HIGH ? 



Henry Hart Milman. 



W 



HAT means yon blaze on high ? 
The empyrean sky, 
Like the rich veil of some proud fane, is rending; 
I see the star-paved land 
Where all the angels stand, 
Even to the highest height, in burning rows ascending. 







A 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 297 

Some, with their wings disspread, 

And bowed the stately head, 
As on some mission of God's love departing, 
Like flames at midnight conflagration starting. 
Behold ! the appointed messengers are they, 
And nearest earth they wait, to waft our souls away. 

Higher and higher still, 

More lofty statures fill 
The jasper-courts of the Everlasting Dwelling ; 

Cherub and seraph pace 

The illimitable space, 
While sleep the folded plumes from their white shoul- 
ders swelling ; 

From all the harping throng 

Bursts the' tumultuous song, 
Like the unceasing sound of cataracts pouring, 
Hosanna o'er hosanna loudly soaring ; 
That faintly echoing down to earthly ears, 
Hath seemed the concert sweet, of the harmonious 
spheres. 

Still my wrapt spirit mounts, 
And lo ! beside the founts 

Of flowing light, Christ's chosen saints reclining; 
Distinct among the blaze, 
Their palm-crowned heads they raise, 

Their white robes, e'en through that o'erpowering 
lustre shining. 

Each, in his place of state, 
Lone the bright twelve have sat, 







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298 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O'er the celestial Zion, high uplifted ; 
While those with deep prophetic raptures gifted, 
Where life's glad river rolls its tideless streams, 
Enjoy the full completion of their heavenly dreams. 

Again. I see again 

The great victorious train, 
The martyr-army, from their toils reposing, 

The blood-red robes they wear 

Empurpling all the air, 
E'en their immortal limbs the signs of wounds dis- 
closing. 

O holy Stephen ! thou 

Art there, and on thy brow 
Hast still the placid smile it wore in dying, 
When under the heaped stones in anguish lying, 
Thy clasping hands were fondly spread to heaven, 
And thy last accents prayed thy foes might be for- 
given. 

Beyond, ah ! who is there 

With the white snowy hair ? 
'Tis He, 'tis He, the Son of Man appearing 

At the right hand of One 

The darkness of whose throne 
That sun-eyed host behold with awe and fearing. 

O'er him the rainbow springs, 

And spreads its emerald wings 
Down to the glassy sea, His loftiest seat o'erarching, 
Hark ! thunders from His throne, like steel-clad armies 

marching ! 
The Christ! the Christ commands us to His home ! 
Jesus, Redeemer, Lord, we come — we come ! 





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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 299 



HEAVEN GROWS DEARER DAY BY DAY. 



Anonymous. 



AS distant lands beyond the sea, 
When friends go thence, draw nigh, 
So heaven, when friends have hither gone, 
Draws nearer from the sky. 

And as those lands the dearer grow, 

When friends are long away, 
So heaven itself, through loved ones gone, 

Grows dearer day by day. 

Heaven is not far from those who see 

With the pure spirit's sight, 
But near, and in the very reach 

Of those who see aright. 



THOU WILT NEVER GROW OLD. 



Mrs. Howarth. 



THOU wilt never grow old, 
Nor weary, nor sad, in the home of thy birth 
My beautiful lily, thy leaves will unfold 

In a clime that is purer and brighter than earth ; 



^JL 

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&. 




300 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

holy and fair, I rejoice thou art there — 

In that kingdom of light, with its cities of gold ; 
Where the air thrills with angel hosannas, and where 
Thou wilt never grow old, sweet — 
Never grow old ! 

1 am a pilgrim with sorrow and sin 

Haunting my footsteps, wherever I go ; 
Life is a warfare my title to win — 
Well it be, if it end not in woe ! 
Pity me, dear, I am laden with care ; 

Dark are my garments with mildew and mould ; 
Thou, my sweet darling, art sinless and fair, 
And wilt never grow old, sweet — 
Never grow old ! 

Thus wilt thou be, as the pilgrim, grown gray, 

Weeps when the vines from the hearthstone are 
riven ; — 
Faith shall behold thee, as pure as the day 
Thou wert torn from the earth, and transplanted to 

Heaven. 
O holy and fair, I rejoice thou art There, 

In that kingdom of light, with its cities of gold, 
Where the air thrills with angel hosannas, and where 
Thou wilt never grow old, sweet — 
Never grow old ! 






4fc 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 3OI 



WHO ARE THOSE BEFORE GOD'S THRONE? 



From the German of Schenck. Translated by Catherine Winkworth. 



WHO are those before God's throne, 
What the crowned host I see ? 
As the sky with stars thick-strown 

Is their shining company ; 
Hallelujahs, hark, they sing ; 
Solemn praise to God they bring. 

Who are those that in their hands 
Bear aloft the conqueror's palm, 

As one o'er his foeman stands, 
Fallen beneath his mighty arm ? 

What the war and what the strife ? 

Whence came such victorious life ? 

Who are those arrayed in light, 
Clothed in righteousness divine, 

Wearing robes so pure and white, 
That unstained shall ever shine, 

That can never more decay — 

Whence come all this bright array ? 

They are those who strong in faith, 
Battled for the mighty God ; 

Conquerors o'er the world and death, 
Following not sin's crowded road ; 






^ 




302 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Through the Lamb who once was slain, 
Did they such high victory gain. 

They are those who much have borne, 
Trial, sorrow, pain, and care, 

Who have wrestled night and morn 
With the mighty God in prayer ; 

Now their strife hath found its close ; 

God hath turned away their woes. 

They are branches of that Stem 
Who hath our salvation been ; 

In the blood He shed for them 

Have they made their raiment clean ; 

Hence they wear such radiant dress, 

Clad in spotless holiness. 

They are those who hourly here 
Served as priests before the Lord, 

Offering up, with gladsome cheer, 
Soul and body at His word. 

Now, within the holy place 

They behold Him face to face ! 

As the harts at noonday pant 
For the river fresh and clear, 

Did their souls oft long and faint 
For the living Fountain here ; 

Now their thirst is quenched ; they dwell 

With the Lord they loved so well ! 





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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 303 

Ah ! that bliss can ne'er be told 

When with all that army bright 
Thee, my Sun, I shall behold, 

Shining, star-like, with Thy light ! 
Amen, thanks be brought to Thee, 

Praise through all eternity ! 



WHO WOULD RECALL HER? 



Ray Palmer. 



SHE hath but passed to Heaven, as if from sleep — 
Sleep soft and peaceful ; she awoke to find 
Earth with its pangs and tears all left behind ! 
Rose her freed spirit up the airy steep, 
On steady wings, beyond where pale stars keep 
Their watch o'er mortal griefs ; she upward sped, 
Not lonely, but by sister spirits led, 
To that dear home where eyes do never weep : 
Strange rapture thrilled her there; and straight her 

note, 
With sweet accord, swelled the eternal hymn 
Of souls redeemed, led by the seraphim ; 
Whose echoes through the circling ages float. 
Now living, conscious, pure as angels bright, 
With God she dwells in everlasting light. 
Who would recall her to tread o'er again 
The mortal path — from Heaven's pure bliss recall ? 
The wish were weakness — though full oft must fall 
Thick blinding tears, from eyes that once were fain 





jgg. 




304 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

To catch her genial smile, ne'er sought in vain. 
Though many an hour fond hearts be sad and lone, 
And miss, and yearn once more to drink the tone 
That lingers in the ear, like some lost strain. 
No, ye that loved her, now to Heaven resign, 
Nor wish her from that nobler life withdrawn ; 
The night of grief shall pass; and with the morn 
Shall come sweet memories ; and a face divine 
With all your worthiest thoughts shall blend, 
And a fair form your wandering steps attend. 



SHE IS IN HEAVEN! HOW SWEET THE 
PHRASE! 



Charlotte Elliott. 



SHE is in Heaven ! How sweet the phrase ! 
Yet its high import who can tell ? 
Here like a glimmering beam it plays, 
Of light, of joy ineffable. 

She is in Heaven, to form a link 

Between thy heart and worlds unseen, 

That then, when Nature's powers must sink, 
Faith's holier virtue may be seen. 

She is in Heaven, that thou, like her, 
May'st shine with a pure steadfast light ; 

Attract their eyes whose footsteps err, 
And guide their wandering feet aright. 






-A 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 305 

She is in Heaven ; though still unseen, 
With hers thy notes of praise may blend ; 

On the same Rock thy soul may lean, 
To the same centre hourly tend. 



FIND ROOM, DEAR LORD, FOR ME. 



Thomas H. Gill. 
" In My Father's House are many Mansions." 

OWHEN did lips such grace declare? 
The Father's house hath room! 
Yes, many are the mansions fair ; 
Thy people all may come. 

The heavenly glory may not part 

Thy lovers, Lord, from thee : 
O Saviour sweet, where'er Thou art 

There all Thine own shall be. 

Full welcome to the heavenly land 

Thy lowly lovers win ; 
The golden gates all open stand 

To let Thy mourners in. 

Thou bringest home Thy shining ones, 

In Thine own light to shine : 
Thou settest high on glorious thrones 

Those hidden ones of Thine." 
20 








j& 




306 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Room for Thy weaklings Thou dost make 

Among Thy men of might ; 
Those fadeless palms Thy martyrs take 

And wear that raiment white. 

For each Thou hast a portion meet ; 

On all doth wait Thy love ; 
Thy brethren dear make yet more sweet 

The Father's house above. 

Dear Lord ! hast thou my white robe wrought ? 

Wilt thou my place prepare? 
Hast thou for me a tender thought, 

For me a mansion fair ? 

Yes, in the Father's house divine 

Find room, dear Lord, for me, 
And grant this longing soul of mine 

An endless home with Thee. 



OVER THE RIVER THEY BECKON ME. 



Nancy W. Priest. 



OVER the river they beckon to me, 
Loved ones who've crossed to the further side, 
The gleam of their snowy robes I see, 

But their voices are lost in the dashing tide. 
There's one with ringlets of sunny gold, 

And eyes the reflection of heaven's own blue, 
He crossed in the twilight grey and cold, 

And the pale mist hid him from mortal view ; 





^ 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 307 

We saw not the angels who met him there, 
The gates of the city we could not see. 

Over the river, over the river, 

My brother stands waiting to welcome me. 



Over the river the boatman pale 

Carried another, the household pet ; 
Her brown curls waved in the gentle gale, 

Darling Minnie! I see her yet. 
She crossed on her bosom her dimpled hands, 

And fearlessly entered the phantom bark, 
We felt it glide from the silver sands, 

And all our sunshine grew strangely dark ; 
We know she is safe on the further side, 

Where all the ransomed and angels be ; 
Over the river, the mystic river, 

My childhood's idol is waiting for me. 



For none return from those quiet shores, 

Who cross with the boatman cold and pale ; 
We hear the dip of the golden oars, 

And catch a gleam of the snowy sail ; 
And lo ! they have passed from our yearning hearts, 

They cross the stream and are gone for aye. 
We may not sunder the veil apart 

That hides from our vision the gates of day, 
We only know that their barks no more 

May sail with us o'er life's stormy sea ; 
Yet somewhere I know on the unseen shore, 

They watch, and beckon, and wait for me. 






3& 




308 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And I sit and think when the sunset's gold 

Is flushing river and hill and shore, 
I shall one day stand by the water cold 

And list for the sound of the boatman's oar ; 
I shall watch for a gleam of the flapping sail, 

I shall hear the boat as it gains the strand, 
I shall pass from sight with the boatman pale, 

To the better shore of the spirit land. 
I shall know the loved who have gone before, 

And joyfully sweet will the meeting be, 
When over the river, the peaceful river, 

The Angel of Death shall carry me. 



THEY ARE GATHERING HOMEWARD, ONE 
BY ONE. 



By the daughter of an English Baptist Missionary in Calcutta. 



THEY are gathering homeward from every land, 
One by one. 
As their weary feet touch the shining strand 

One by one, 
Their brows are enclosed in a golden crown, 
Their travel-stained garments are all laid down, 
And clothed in white raiment they rest on the mead, 
Where the Lamb loveth His chosen to lead, 
One by one. 

Before the rest they pass through the strife 

One by one, 
Through the waters of death they enter life 

One by one. 





Y&y 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 309 

To some are the floods of the river still 
As they ford on their way to the heavenly hill, 
To others the waves run fiercely and wild, 
Yet all reach the home of the undefiled 
One by one. 

We too shall come to the river side 

One by one, 
We are nearer its waters each eventide. 

One by one 
We can hear the noise and dash of the stream 
Now and again through our life's deep dream ; 
Sometimes the floods all the banks o'erflow, 
Sometimes in ripples the small waves go, 

One by one. 



OPEN YE GATES, FOR THE BATTLE HATH 
ENDED. 



William Palin. 



OPEN ! ye Gates, for the battle hath ended, 
The warfare is over, the victory won : 
Mighty the foe who his kingdom defended, 
But mightier things by our Captain are done. 

Sound ! sound your harps ! in your mansions of glory, 
Ye Angels, who heralded peace at His birth ; 

Now welcome Him back, while man takes up the story. 
And echoes the tidings of peace upon earth. 







-ill 




3IO HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Olivet ! henceforth for evermore holy, 

As Bethlehem, Tabor, thy name we will call ; 

He trod thee despised, rejected and lowly, 
Behold Him now triumphing, LORD over all. 

Higher, yet higher, behold Him ascending ; 

See! Messengers coming apparelled in white; 
See Him now vanish, the marvel is ending, 

The cloud is receiving Him out of our sight ! 

Open, ye gates ! yet again shall the thrilling 
Command be repeated, and all men shall hear: 

Saints, as their heritage Heaven is filling, 
The cursed, as Hell first re-echoes their fear. 



GO LAY THEIR LITTLE HEADS ON THAT 
HEART. 



George W. Bethune. (Suggested by the bas-relief of Thorwaldsen.) 



YES ! bear them to their rest ; 
The rosy babe, tired with the glare of day, 
The prattler, fallen asleep e'en in his play ; 
Clasp them to thy soft breast, 
O Night; 
Bless them in dreams with a deep-hushed delight. 

Yet must they wake again, 
Wake soon to all the bitterness of life, 
The pang of sorrow, the temptation strife, 

Ay, to the conscience pain : 
O Night, 
Canst thou not take with them a longer flight? 







INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 311 

Canst thou not bear them far 
E'en now, all innocent, before they know 
The taint of sin, its consequence of woe, 

The world's distracting jar, 
O Night, 
To some ethereal, holier, happier height ? 

Canst thou not bear them up, 
Through starlit skies, far from this planet dim 
And sorrowful, e'en while they sleep, to Him 

Who drank for us the cup, 
O Night, 
The cup of wrath, for hearts in faith contrite ? 

To Him, for them who slept 
A babe all lowly. on his mother's knee, 
And from that hour to cross-crowned Calvary, 

In all our sorrows wept, 
O Night, 
That on our souls might dawn Heaven's cheering light ? 

Go, lay their little heads 
Close to that human heart, with love divine 
Deep-beating, while His arms immortal twine 

Around them, as He sheds, 
O Night, 
On them a brother's grace of God's own boundless might. 

Let them immortal wake 
Among the deathless flowers of Paradise ; 
Where angel songs of welcome with surprise 

This their last sleep may break, 
O Night, 
And to celestial joy their kindred souls invite. 







=^M. 



312 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There can come no sorrow ; 
The brow shall know no shade, the eye no tears, 
For, ever young, through Heaven's eternal years, 

In one unfading morrow, 
O Night, 
Nor sin, nor age, nor pain, their cherub beauty blight. 

Would we could sleep as they, 
So stainless — and so calm — at rest with Thee — 
And only wake in immortality ! 

Bear us with them away, 
O Night, 
To that ethereal, holier, happier height ! 



I WAIT TILL THE HINGES TURN FOR ME. 



William Cullen Bryant. 



BESIDE a massive gateway built up in years gone 
by, 

Upon whose top the clouds in eternal shadow lie, 
While streams the evening sunshine on quiet wood and 

lea, 
I stand and calmly wait till the hinges turn for me. 

The tree-tops faintly rustle beneath the breeze's flight, 
A soft and soothing sound, yet it whispers of the 

night ; 
I hear the wood-thrush piping one mellow descant 

more, 
And scent the flowers that blow when the heat of day 

is o'er. 



^ 





■&. 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 313 

Behold the portals open, and o'er the threshold, now, 
There steps a wearied one with a pale and furrowed 

brow ; 
His count of years is full, his allotted task is wrought ; 
He passes to his rest from a place that needs him not. 

In sadness then I ponder how quickly fleets the hour 
Of human strength and action, man's courage and his 

power. 
I muse while still the wood-thrush sings down the 

golden day, 
And as I look and listen the sadness wears away. 

Again the hinges turn, and a youth, departing, throws 
A look of longing backward, and sorrowfully goes ; 
A blooming maid, unbinding the roses from her hair, 
Moves mournfully away from amidst the young and 
fair. 

Oh glory of our race that so suddenly decays ! 

Oh crimson flush of morning that darkens as we gaze ! 

Oh breath of summer blossoms that on the restless 

air 
Scatters a moment's sweetness and flies we know not 

where ! 

I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then 

withdrawn ; 
But still the sun shines round me : the evening bird 

sings on, 
And I again am soothed, and beside the ancient gate, 
In the soft evening sunlight, I calmly stand and wait. 







A. 



314 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Once more the gates are opened ; an infant group go 

out, 
The sweet smile quenched forever, and stilled the 

sprightly shout. 
Oh frail, frail tree of Life, that upon the green sward 

strows 
Its fair young buds unopened, with every wind that 

blows ! 

So come from every region : so enter, side by side, 

The strong and faint of spirit, the meek and men of 
pride. 

Steps of earth's great and mighty, between those pil- 
lars grey, 

And prints of little feet, mark the dust along the 
way. 

And some approach the threshold whose looks are 
blank with fear, 

And some whose temples brighten with joy in draw- 
ing near, 

As if they saw dear faces, and caught the gracious eye 

Of Him, the Sinless Teacher, who came for us to die. 

I mark the joy, the terror ; yet these, within my heart, 
Can neither wake the dread nor the longing to depart; 
And in the sunshine streaming on quiet wood and 

lea, 
I stand and calmly wait till the hinges turn for me. 






-A 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 315 



WHENCE CAME THAT MULTITUDE? 



Marianne Farningham. 



WHENCE came that multitude ? Ah ! they have 
marched through paths of flame, 
Where martyr-fires have silenced tongues that called 

on Jesus' name — 
From the thickest of the battle, from the conflict sore 

and long, 
Where the trembling heart grew feeble, where the foes 

were fierce and strong : 
From the scorching sands of desert-lands ; from the 

ever-frozen isles — 
Yes, they have come from tears and sighs, to the 

brighter land of smiles. 

Whence came the multitude ? They came from homes 
that Death had riven ; 

From dreary, vacant, joyless hearths, from which all 
light was driven ; 

They are mothers, whose fond gentle hearts were bit- 
terly bereaved ; 

They are fathers, husbands, left alone, with spirits 
sorely grieved : 

They are crushed, forsaken, mourning ones — but now, 
in perfect peace, 

They sing the song of the Redeemed, where woe for 
aye shall cease. 







-$& 




3l6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Whence came the radiant multitude, amid the bliss 
above ? 

They came from dim and shaded lives of unrequited 
love : 

From yearnings long unsatisfied, unanswered question- 
ings ; 

From brooding o'er th' uncertainty of all their precious 
things : 

From sorrow, sickness, death itself, the spirits freed 
have come 

To bask them in the love and light of that eternal 
home. 

And we, along the well-worn track, our long, dark jour- 
ney take, 

Longing, with aching hearts, to rest in heaven for 
Jesus' sake ; 

Yet, let us shrink not from the way so many trod be- 
fore, 

If we may join that multitude, when all our toils are o'er; 

But welcome tribulation, if, at last, our feet it bring 

Safe o'er the threshold of that home — to the presence 
of the King. 

" I am the Lord that healeth thee." We know thee, 

O our Friend ; 
Stay with us in thy mighty power till every grief shall 

end. 
We thank thee for the wounds thou send'st, for 'tis so 

sweet to be 
The weary, weeping, wounded ones, so sweetly healed 

by Thee. 




:n 





m 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 317 



GO NOT TO HEAVEN ALONE? 



Thomas C. Upham. 



HIGH on the hills the wild bird hath its nest, 
And utters loud its melodies of song ; 
But vain its music, if no other breast 

Is there to mate it, and its notes prolong. 

And so in heaven, think not to dwell alone, 

In cold and hopeless solitude apart ; 
For heaven is love ; and love would leave its throne, 

If at its side there were no other heart. 

Then heavenward soar, but carry others there, 
And learn that heaven is giving and receiving, 

It hath no life which others do not share, 
Its life doth live by its great art of giving. 

Heaven is the heart to other love-hearts beating; 

'Tis open arms, to arms of fondness rushing ; 
'Tis songs, with other songs in concert meeting; 

'Tis fountains into other fountains gushing. 




9 




j^: 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



WE ASK NOT WHAT THE JOY SHALL BE. 



Anonymous. 



It doth not yet appear what we shall be ; but we know that when He doth appear 
we shall be like Him ; for we shall see Him as He is." 

OH ! beams there, Lord, upon Thine own 
Of that bright Heaven no vision clear? 
Oh ! stays the glory all unknown 

Thou keepest for Thy children dear ? 

Lord, Thou hast shown that Son of Thine ! 

No more we seek, no more we sigh : 
On earth hath beamed His Face Divine, 

'Twill make our blessedness on high. 

Ye heavenly joys, remain unknown ! 

Ye splendors, cease not to be dim ! 
Our Brother shines amidst the throne : 

Our Brother sways the Seraphim. 

We ask not what the joy will be, 

Secure to find our Saviour there. 
O Heaven of Heavens His face to see ! 

O bliss past thought His smile to share ! 

We tread His Heaven, our earth who trod ; 

We wear His robes, our flesh who wore : 
O Son of Man ! O Son of God, 

Thou art our own : we ask no more ! 





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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 319 



A VISION OF THE DOOM. 



Gerard Moultrie. Translated by John Mason Neale. 



WHO are they the Crown who win, 
Freed from sorrow, cleansed from sin, 
Meet before the throne to stand ? 
Where are they, the sons of GOD, 
Ready for the blest abode 
Of the heavenly Fatherland ? 

Roll away the clouds of Death, 

Gaze beyond the shore of Time ; 
Raise your eyes from Earth beneath, 

From the coasts of sin and crime, 
To GOD'S high seat: 
See the Zenith blaze, and roll 

Thunder-folded like a scroll 
In fervent heat ; 
Till your fearful eyes may scan, 

On the clouds of Heaven descending, 
The signal of the Son of Man. 
Time and Time's dominion ending. 

The trumpet sounds ! 
Far away the echoes roar, 
Moaning on from shore to shore, 
In the distance far away, 

Far away : 



^ 




320 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

As the Archangel of the Doom, 
Standing on the thunder-cloud, 

Calls the muster of the tomb 
With his fanfare long and loud, 
For the tenants of the clay, 
From the clay. 

Come forth ! come forth ! 
Quick and dead, come forth, and stand 
In your ranks on either hand, 

From the teeming womb of earth, 

To hear your fate : 
Earth's full girdle shrivel must 
As ye claim your native dust, 
Held till now by her in trust, 

The call to wait. 

The great white throne 
Of the Eternal Christ is set ; 

The books are opened, which must seal 

For everlasting woe or weal 
The doom of each. All heaven is met 

Before the Archangel's trumpet peal : 
The six-winged Seraphim, 
The many-eyed Cherubim, 

Thrones and Dominations, Powers, 
All the shining host of Heaven, 
White-winged as the fair snow driven 

When the wintry tempest lowers: 
Far away, till lost to sight, 
Spread their squadrons infinite, 

Pouring from the blest abode 





A 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 32 1 

In their armor keen and bright — 
Flashing from the Light of Light, 
Breaking up the shades of night, 
Advance the body-guard of GOD ! 

The Judge of all 

Is seated. In his hand he bears 

The sceptred Cross of Calvary ; 

The ruby drops of blood still fall. 

And jewel with their crimson dye 

The Universal Monarch's ball, 
Won by his human agony and tears, 
When the GOD-Man the way of sorrows trod, — 
Regalia of the Passion of our GOD. 

A cry of misery, * 
A voice of lamentation low and dread 
As the deep organ-note in minster high, 
When men sing requiem for the coffined dead, 
Throbs through the boundless nations of the lost, 

Despairing, deep. 
Countless in number as the yellow sand 
Ribbed by the embraces of the Northern sea 
When wintry waves come bounding on the coast, 
With breath suspended in calm trance they stand, 
And eyeballs fixed in sightless lethargy, 
As men who dare not doubt that hope is fled. 
Yet hear their sentence as in dream hell-sped 

Of restless sleep : 
They have no heart to weep, 

When the once loving CHRIST lays down his love, 
As to the left he waves them with his hand, — 
21 






^: 




322 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

" Depart, accursed, to your chosen lot, 

The fire that is not quenched, the worm that dieth not." 

A breath of harmony 

Touched by celestial fire, 
Like the low whisper of the yEolian lyre. 
First faint, then swelling louder in sweet tone 
Mounts up around the everlasting throne 

From the white-vested choir ; 

A hymn of wakening praise, 
Which now the Elect of Christ the King upraise, 
Who see all doubt depart with endless life begun. 

Who are they who win the prize ? 

Spirits of the perfect just, 
Who in shock of battle stood 

In the tumult and the dust, 
In the forefront of the fight : 
They have washed their robes in blood, 
And have made them pure and white 

For their heavenly Captain's eyes : 
These are they the prize who win, 
To God's joy they enter in. 

Glory to the bleeding brow ! 

Glory to the bleeding heart ! 
Glory for the souls who know 

What the prize, nor heed the smart ; 
They have counted well the cost, 

Worldly poverty and shame: 
All is won and nought is lost 

If they suffer for his Name. 



Y 










INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 323 

Peace he leaves ; his peace is given, 

Not of earth he gives to them, 
But he gives the peace of Heaven 

In the New Jerusalem. 

Bright the everlasting day 

• From the throne of GOD hath beamed, 
With its never-fading ray, 

On the ranks of the Redeemed: 
Onward they haste ! 
In the armor of the LORD, 
Shield of Faith, and Spirit's sword 
Salvation's helmet, sure and through, 
Borne on high the onset true, 
Breastplate firm of. Righteousness, 
Which has stood the strain and stress 

Of the furious battle-blast. 

A thousand times ten thousand bow 

In adoration to the throne ; 
The books are shut, and now they know 

Their hope, their joy, is all their own. 
A myriad voice of melody 
Swelling up to God on high 

Fills the vales of Paradise, 
Circling round the Eternal Feet, 
Multitudinous and sweet, 

Saint to saint in rapture calling, 
As they know their friends once more ; 

In sweet cadence rising, falling, 

Full and slumbrous as the voice 





*f J £ 




324 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Of many waters on the shore, 
Where tempests vex not evermore — 
For Time is gone, and now is nigh 
Eternity. 



BRIGHT GLORY RESTING ON THY BROW. 

DOWN to the margin of the shadowy river, 
Thy feet are pressing now ; 
And the bright glory from, the upper temple . 

Is resting on thy brow. 
Soon shall the hand that mine so oft has folded 

Sweep o'er a harp of gold ; 
And thy worn feet, with all their wanderings ended, 
Rest in the Master's folcL 

But I shall be so lonely. When the morning 

Breaks up in one glad wave 
How dim its light shall seem, because its shining 

Falleth across thy grave ! 
And when the stars are dead along the brow of 
Heaven, 

And gathering tempests moan, 
My heart shall echo back their bitter wailing, 

For I shall be alone. 

No more my friend. The angel bands have won thee, 

And far from earth's regret, 
In the bright city with its many mansions 

Thou wilt at last forget — 





A- 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 325 

Forget the heart that in its holiest holy 

Enshrines thee all life's years ; 
Forget the eyes so wearily uplooking 

Through mists of gathering tears. 

And yet farewell ; I will not seek to keep thee, 

But let life's severed bands 
Draw my oppressed and fainting spirit nearer 

Its house not made with hands. 
And when beside my lonely hearthstone kneeling 

I hush my heart for prayer, 
Nearer shall seem that bright, celestial city 

Because thou dwellest there. 



SEE A LONG RACE THY COURTS ADORN. 



Alexander Pope. 



RISE, crowned with light, imperial Salem, rise, 
Exalt thy towery head, and lift thy eyes ! 
See a long race thy spacious courts adorn ; 
See future sons and daughters., yet unborn, 
In crowding ranks on every side arise, 
Demanding life, impatient for the skies! 
See barbarous nations at thy gate attend, 
Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend ; 
See thy bright altars thronged with prostrate kings, 
And heaped with products of Sabean springs ! 
For thee, Idume's spicy forests blow, 
And seeds of gold in Ophir's mountains glow. 







326 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

See Heaven its sparkling portals wide display, 

And break upon thee in a flood of day. 

No more the rising sun shall gild the morn, 

Nor evening Cynthia fill her silver horn ; 

But lost, dissolved in thy superior rays, 

One tide of glory, one unclouded blaze 

O'erflow thy courts ; the Light Himself shall shine 

Revealed, and God's eternal day be thine ! 

The seas shall waste, the skies in smoke decay, 

Rocks fall to dust, and mountains melt away ; 

But fixed His word, His saving power remains ; 

Thy realm forever lasts, thy own Messiah reigns. 



WHEN YOUR FLESH DISSOLVES TO DUST. 



Thomas Ken. 



And I say unto you, That many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit 
down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven." 

SOUL, when your flesh dissolves to dust, 
To God's safe Hands yourself entrust ; 
Be not too curious to inquire, 

Where to aspire ; 

Whether to Paradise you fly, 

Or in bless'd Abraham's bosom lie, 

Or to that orb your flight you raise 

Where Enoch stays ; 






~ t • © 



w&M 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 

..Or to the third celestial sphere, 
Where wonders Paul was rapt to hear, 
„Or Hades bless'd where souls elect 

Full bliss expect. 

Secure your Love while here below, 

And dying you'll to Jesus go ; 

Paul long'd loved Jesus' face to view, 

For that long you. 

Bless'd Jesus' boundless bliss Divine 
In you in miniature will shine, 
Glory for glory, beam for beam 

Will on you stream. 

A crown, a throne at God's right Hand, 
Where Saints their robes of ray expand, 
W 7 here Saints are kings, and on their state 
High Angels wait. 

Such blessings on the Saints attend, 
When Jesus-lrke.they Heaven ascend, 
The Lamb, of joys the boundless spring, 
They'll ever sing. 

Death our forerunner is, and guides 
To Sion, where the Lamb abides, 
There Saints enjoy ecstatic rest 

In mansions blest. 

Death, I well know, that every day 
Wise Providence appoints your way, 
Your thirst for blood would slay mankind, 
If not confined. 





327 





^fc 




328 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I long to reach the Lamb's dear sight, 
Be sure to hit my vitals right, 
Lest life half left prolongs my days 

And bliss delays. 



OH, WITH WHAT CONGRATULATIONS. 

OH, with what congratulations 
Throng thy gates the festive nations ; 
What the warmth of their embracing ! 
What the gems thy wall enchasing! 
Through that city's streets are wending 
Holy throngs, their anthems blending. 
There may I, with myriads glorious, 
Chant thy praise in psalms victorious. 



CLAD IN GARMENTS RADIANT WHITE. 



Archibald Edmonstone, 




WHO is it clad in garments radiant white, 
Love on her breastplate graven, on her brow 
Salvation diademed? Above, below, 
Ten thousand thousand Spirits wing their flight, 
A shining company. With glory bright 
The army of Martyrs circle, which through woe 
And peril, pain, and death, dared face the foe, 
Bearing their palms, with victor-chaplets dight. 






sk 



INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 329 

In mild but awful majesty, to meet 
The Bride comes forth the Bridegroom, in the skies 
Enthroning on her everlasting seat. 
From myriad Voices shouts of triumph rise : 
" Her warfare is accomplished ; at her feet 
Fallen is the captive's chain — the conqueror prostrate 
lies ! '" 



GOD KEEPS A NICHE IN HEAVEN. 



From Sonnets, by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 



AND O beloved voices, upon which 
Ours passionately call, because ere long 
Ye brake off in the middle of that song 
We sang together softly, to enrich 
The poor world with the sense of love and with 
The heart out of things evil, — I am strong, 
Knowing ye are not lost for aye among 
The hills, with last year's thrush. God keeps a niche 
In Heaven, to hold our idols: and albeit 
He brake them to our faces, and denied 
That our close kisses should impair their white, — 
I know we shall behold them raised, complete, 
The dust swept from their beauty, — glorified 
New Memnons singing in the great God-light. » 






=ltl 




330 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



OH, GIVE THEM AGAIN TO ME. 



Marianne Farningham. 



" Father, I will that they also whom thou hast given me may be with me where 

I am." 

I AM pressing on to the slippery shore 
With my sore and weary feet, 
But a little while and I hope to stand 

At the edge of the Golden street. 
But I pray this prayer from amid the deep — 

O Saviour of sinners, bring 
Those whom I love to abide with me 
In the presence of the King. 

There are warm young hearts in the household band ; 

There are brightly beaming eyes ; 
There are voices sweet that I fain would hear 

'Mid the anthems of the skies : 
Thou knowest, O Jesus, how closely here 

The bonds of love entwine ; 
I count them o'er in the gloaming hour, 

And remember these words of Thine. 

There are trembling fingers and silvery hairs, 

And eyes that are growing dim, 
And voices less strong than in days of yore, 

Swelling the evening hymn. 






A 



INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 




331 



I would not miss them at home in heaven ; 

O Jesus, who gave them me, 
May I have them again in the land of peace, 

In the home by the glassy sea ? 

When the golden crowns at my feet are cast, 

May they be among the band ; 
When the hymn is swelling o'er heavenly hills, 

Let them with the harpers stand. 
It cannot be that the dearest ones 

Shall depart in the day of strife ; 
It cannot be that the loves of earth, 

Shall die in the day of life. 

I would that my dear ones might all be brought 

To the feet of the Crucified ; 
Might be carried to Him when borne away 

By the coldly rolling tide. 
But man is weak, although love be strong, 

And I can but look to Thee, 
And pray as Thou prayedst in Thine agony, 

Oh, give them again to me ! 



THE INNUMERABLE GREETING. 



Edward Henry Bickersteth. 



AND lo, upon the extreme verge of cloud 
As once at Eden's portals there appear'd 
A company of angels clothed in light, 
Thronging the path or in the amber air 





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332 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Suspense. And in the twinkling of an eye 
We were among them and they cluster'd round 
And waved their wings, and struck their harps again 
For gladness : every look was tenderness, 
And every word was musical with joy. 

" Welcome to heaven, dear brother, welcome home. 
Welcome to thy inheritance of light ! 
Welcome forever to thy Master's joy ! 
Thy work is done, thy pilgrimage is past ; 
Thy guardian angel's vigil is fulfill'd ; 
Thy parents wait thee in the bowers of bliss ; 
Thy infant babes have woven wreaths for thee ; 
Thy brethren who have enter'd into rest 
Long for thy coming ; and the angel choirs 
Are ready with their symphonies of praise. 
Nor shall thy voice be mute : a golden harp 
For thee is hanging on the trees of life ; 
And sweetly shall its chords forever ring, 
Responsive to thy touch of ecstasy, 
With Hallelujahs to thy Lord and ours." 

So sang they ; and that vast defile of clouds 
Re-echoed with the impulses of song 
And music, and the atmosphere serene 
Throbb'd with innumerable greetings. 







m 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 333 



O HAPPY SAINTS WHO DWELL IN LIGHT. 



John Berridge. 



O HAPPY saints who dwell in light, 
And walk with Jesus, clothed in white ; 
Safe landed on that peaceful shore, 
Where pilgrims meet to part no more. 

Released from sin, and toil, and grief, 
Death was their gate to endless life, — 
An opened cage, to let them fly 
And build their happy nest on high. 

And now they range the heavenly plains, 
And sing their hymns in melting strains ; 
And now their souls begin to prove 
The height and depth of Jesus' love. 

He cheers them with eternal smile ; 
They sing hosannas all the while, 
Or, overwhelmed with raptures sweet, 
Sink down adoring at his feet. 

Ah, Lord, with tardy steps I creep, 
And sometimes sing, and sometimes weep ; 
Yet strip me of this house of clay, 
And I will sing as loud as they. 






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334 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



MY SAVIOUR WHOM ABSENT I LOVE. 



William Cowper. 



MY Saviour whom absent I love, 
Whom not having seen I adore, 
Whose name is exalted above 
All glory, dominion and power. 

Dissolve Thou those bands that detain 
My soul from her portion in Thee, 

Ah, strike off this adamant chain, 
And make me eternally free. 

When that happy era begins, 

When arrayed in Thy glories I shine, 

Nor grieve any more, by my sins, 
The bosom on which I recline ; 

Oh then shall the veil be removed, 

And round me Thy brightness be poured 

I shall meet Him Whom absent I loved, 
I shall see Whom unseen I adored. 






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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 335 



TO BE WITH CHRIST WHICH IS FAR 
BETTER. 



Charles Wesley. 



OH when shall we sweetly remove, 
Oh when shall we enter our rest, 
Return to the Zion above, 

The mother of spirits distrest ; 
That city of God the great King, 

Where sorrow and death are no more, 
Where saints our Immanuel sing, 
And cherub and seraph adore? 

Thou know'st in the spirit of prayer 

We long Thy appearing to see. 
Resigned to the burden we bear, 

But longing to triumph with Thee : 
'Tis good at Thy word to be here ; 

'Tis better in Thee to be gone, 
And see Thee in glory appear, 

And rise to a share in Thy throne. 

To mourn for Thy coming is sweet, 
To weep at Thy longer delay ; 

But Thou, whom we hasten to meet, 
Shalt chase all our sorrows away. 






-$@M. 




336 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The tears shall be wiped from our eyes 
When Thee we behold in the cloud, 

And echo the joys of the skies', 
And shout to the trumpet of God. 



WILL ANY BE WATCHING FOR ME? 



From Poems of Home Life. 



W J HEN mysterious whispers are floating about, 

V V And voices that will not be still 
Shall summon me hence from the slippery shore 

To the waves that are silent and still ; 
When I look with changed eyes at the home of the 
blest, 
Far out of the reach of the sea, 
Will any one stand at that beautiful gate 
Waiting and watching for me ? 

There are friendless and suffering strangers around, 

There are tempted and poor I must meet ; 
There are dear ones at home I may bless with my love, 

There are wretched ones pacing the street ; 
There are many unthought of, whom, happy and blest 

In the land of the good I shall see : 
Will any of these at the beautiful gate 

Be waiting and watching for me ? 

There are old and forsaken, who linger awhile 
In the homes which their dearest have left, 

And an action of love and a few gentle words 
Might cheer the sad spirit bereft ; 





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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 337 

But the reaper is near to the long-standing corn, 

The weary shall soon be set free ; 
Will any of these at the beautiful gate 

Be waiting and watching for me ? 

There are little ones glancing about on my path 

In need of a friend or a guide ; 
There are dim little eyes looking up into mine, 

Whose tears could be easily dried ; 
But Jesus may beckon the children away 

In the midst of their grief or their glee : 
Will any of them at the beautiful gate 

Be watching and waiting for me? 

I may be brought there by the manifold grace 

Of the Saviour who loved to forgive, 
Though I bless not the hungry ones near to my side, 

Only pray for myself while I live ; 
But I think I should mourn o'er my selfish neglect, 

If sorrow in heaven can be, 
If no one should stand at that beautiful gate 

Waiting and watching for me ! 



GIVE ME THE WINGS OF FAITH. 



Isaac Watts. 



GIVE me the wings of faith to rise 
Within the veil, and see 
The saints above, how great their joys, 
How bright their glories be. 
22 






$!m 




338 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Once they were mourning here below, 
And bathed their couch with tears ; 

They wrestled hard, as we do now, 
With sins, and doubts, and fears. 

I ask them whence their victory came ; 

They, with united breath, 
Ascribe their conquest to the Lamb, 

Their triumph, to His death. 

They marked the footsteps that He trod 
His zeal inspired their breast ; 

And, following their incarnate God, 
Possessed the promised rest. * 

Our glorious Leader claims our praise-, 
For His own pattern given ; 

While the long cloud of witnesses 
Show the same path to heaven. 



LAMBS OF THE UPPER FOLD. 

' 1\ /T ID the pastures green of the blessed isles, 
■IV A Where never is heat or cold, 
Where the light of life is the Shepherd's smile, 

Are the lambs of the Upper Fold. 
Where the lilies blossom in fadeless spring, 

And never a heart grows old, 
Where the glad new song is the song they sing, 

Are the lambs of the Upper Fold. 








INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 339 



There are tiny mounds where the hopes of earth, 

Were laid 'neath the tear-wet mould, 
But the light that paled at the stricken hearth, 

Was joy to the Upper Fold : 
Oh, the white stone beareth a new name now, 

That never on earth was told, 
And the tender Shepherd doth guard with care 

The lambs of the Upper Fold. 



FATHER, I LONG, I FAINT. 



Isaac Watts. 



FATHER, I long, I faint to see 
The place of thine abode ; 
I'd leave Thy earthly courts and flee 
Up to Thy seat, my God ! 

Here I behold Thy distant face, 

And 'tis a pleasing sight ; 
But to abide in Thine embrace 

Is infinite delight. 

I'd part with all the joys of sense 
To gaze upon Thy throne ; 

Pleasure springs fresh forever thence, 
Unspeakable, unknown. 

There all the heavenly hosts are seen, 
In shining ranks they move, 

And drink immortal vigor in 
With wonder and with love. 







A 




340 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There at thy feet with awful fear 

The adoring armies fall ; 
With joy they shrink to nothing there, 

Before the eternal All. 

The more Thy glories strike my eyes, 

The humbler I shall lie ; 
Thus, while I sink, my joys shall rise 

Unmeasurably high. 



OUR EVERLASTING PORTION. 



Thomas H. Gill. 



" Whom have I in Heaven but Thee, and whom on earth do I desire in comparison 
wkh Thee ? " 

I HAIL you not, Mansions Divine, 
Because ye are peaceful and fair ; 
Your builder, your Master is mine ; 
My Father, my Saviour is there. 
I cleave not to you, angels bright, 
But to Him who filleth the throne ; 
In Thee, Lord, in Thee I delight, 
Thou, Thou art mine All, art mine own. 

Yes, Lover Divine, Thou art loved, 
Yes Lord of my heart, Thou art dear ; 
Even now this cold bosom is moved ; 
Thy presence is sweet even here ; 
Still, still through the long mortal years 
Thou makest with me Thine abode 
And still this dark Valley of Tears 
So bright with the smile of my God. 







)& 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 34I 

My friends true and tender have been 
But only in Thee am I blest : 
'Tis sweet on their bosoms to lean 
'Tis sweetest to lean on Thy breast 
From creatures most gracious and bright 
To the Lord of my heart still I turn ; 
In fullness of earthly delight 
For the Heavenly Lover I yearn. 

My God ! art Thou dear even now ? 
My Sun ! dost Thou shine even here ? 
Then how will my joy in Thee grow 
When thou dost in glory appear ; 
When close to Thy brightness I come, 
And set my rapt gaze on Thy face 
And sweetly enjoy Thee at home 
And glow in Thine endless embrace ! 

For ever that Presence of Thine 
Makes blissful the Heavenly Abode ; 
Thy saints and Thy seraphim shine. 
But only with light from my God. 
Thy beauty in them will be sweet ; 
Thy glory will link them to me : 
And still my glad soul will repeat 
" Whom have I in Heaven but Thee?" 



ite 







A. 



342 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



OH THE DELIGHTS, THE HEAVENLY JO^S. 

Isaac Watts. 



OH the delights, the heavenly joys, 
The glories of the place, 
Where Jesus sheds the brightest beams 
Of His o'erflowing grace ! 

Sweet majesty and awful love 

Sit smiling on His brow, 
And all the glorious rank above 

At humble distance bow. 

Princes to His imperial name 

Bend their bright sceptres down ; 

Dominions, thrones, and powers rejoice 
To see Him wear the crown. 

Archangels sound His lofty praise 
Through every heavenly street, 

And lay their highest honors down 
Submissive at His feet. 

Those soft, those blessed feet of His, 

That once rude iron tore, 
High on a throne of light they stand 

And all the saints adore. 

His head, the dear, majestic head, 
That cruel thorns did wound, 

See what immortal glories shine 
And circle it around ! 






& 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 343 

This is the man, th' exalted man, 

Whom we, unseen, adore ; 
But when our eyes behold his face, 

Our hearts shall love him more. 

Lord, how our souls are all on fire 

To see Thy blest abode ; 
Our tongues rejoice in tunes of praise 

To our incarnate God ! 

And while our faith enjoys this sight, 

We long to leave our clay, 
And with Thy fiery chariots, Lord, 

To fetch our souls away ! 



YE WHOE'ER FOR CHRIST ARE SEEKING. 



From the Latin of Prudentius. 



Y 



E whoe'er for Christ are seeking, 
Lift your longing eyes on high ; 
There behold the glory breaking 
Of celestial majesty. 

Bright the vision there unveiling, 
With unbounded lustre bright, 

High, sublime, and never failing, 
Elder than primeval light. 

He is King all realms to gather, 
King whom Israel's tribes obey, 

Promised to His people's father, 
Abraham, and his seed for aye. 







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344 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Seers to Him high witness breathing, 
Seal their words with love and fear ; 

Him th' eternal Sire bequeathing, 
Bids His own believe and hear. 



OFT WEEPING MEMORY SITS ALONE. 



Henry Harbaugh. 



OFT weeping memory sits alone 
Beside some grave at even, 
And calls upon some spirit flown ; 
O say, shall those on earth our own 
Be ours again in heaven ? 

Shall friends who o'er the waste of life . 

By the same storms are driven, — 
Shall they recount in realms of bliss 
The fortunes and the tears of this, 

And love again in heaven ? 

When hearts which have on earth been one 

By ruthless death are riven, 
Why does the one which death has reft 
Drag off in grief the one that's left, 

If not to meet in heaven ? 

The warmest love on earth is still 

Imperfect when 'tis given ; 
But there's a purer clime above, 
Where perfect hearts in perfect love 

Unite, and this is heaven. 






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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 345 

If love on earth is but " in part," 

As light and shade at even, 
If sin doth plant a thorn between 
The truest hearts, there is, I ween, 

A perfect love in heaven. 

O happy world ! O glorious place, 

Where all who are forgiven 
Shall find their loved and lost below, 
And hearts, like melting streams, shall flow, 

Forever one in heaven ! 



ONE IN LIFE AND ONE IN DEATH. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



* r I ^IS thus they press the hand and part ; 

JL Thus have they bid farewell again ; 
Yet still they commune, heart with heart, 

Linked by a never-broken chain. 

Still one in life and one in death, 
One in their hope of rest above, 

One in their joy, their trust, their faith, 
One in each other's faithful love. 

Yes ; shall they meet again in peace, 

To sing the song of festal joy, 
Where none shall bid their gladness cease 

And none their fellowship destroy. 










346 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Where none shall beckon them away, 
Nor bid their festival be done ; 

Their meeting-time the eternal day, 

Their meeting-place the eternal throne. 

There, hand in hand, firm linked at last, 
And heart to heart enfolded all, 

They'll smile upon the troubled past, 
And wonder why they wept at all. 

Then let them press the hand and part, 
The dearly loved, the fondly loving, 

Still, still, in spirit and in heart, 
The undivided, unremoving. 



TREY ARE NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE. 

SAY, why should friendship grieve for those 
Who safe arrive on Canaan's shore ? 
Released from all their hurtful foes, 
They are not lost, but gone before. 

Dear is the spot where Christians sleep, 
And sweet the strains their spirits pour ; 

Oh why should we in anguish weep ? 
They are not lost, but gone before. 

Secure from every mortal care, 

By sin and sorrow vexed no more, 

Eternal happiness they share 

Who are not lost, but gone before. 







J&. 




INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 347 

On Jordan's bank, whene'er we come, 
And hear the swelling waters roar, 

Father, convey us safely home 

To friends not lost but gone before. 



THE BAND THAT NOW IN TRIUMPH 
SHINES. 



Giles Fletcher. 

HERE may the band that now in triumph shines, 
And that, before they were invested thus, 
In earthly bodies carried heavenly minds, 
Pitch round about, in order glorious, 
Their sunny tents and houses luminous, 
All their eternal day in songs employing, 
Joying their end, without end of their joying, 
While their Almighty Prince destruction is destroying. 

Their sight drinks lovely fire in at their eyes ; 

Their breath sweet incense with fine breath accloys, 
That on God's sweating altar burning lies ; 

Their hungry ears feed on the heavenly noise 

That aneels sine to tell their untold 



l £- 




joys; 

Their understanding, naked truth, their wills 
The all and self-sufficient goodness fills, 
That nothing here is wanting but the want of ills. 

No sorrow now hangs clouding on their brow ; 

No bloodless malady empales their face ; 
No age drops on their hairs his silver snow ; 

No nakedness their bodies doth embase ; 






yfra/ 




348 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

No poverty themselves and theirs disgrace ; 
No fear of death the joy of life devours ; 
No unchaste sleep their precious time deflowers ; 
No loss, no grief, no change, wait on their winged hours. 

But now their naked bodies scorn the cold, 

And from their eyes joy looks and laughs at pain : 

The infant wonders how he came so old, 
The old man how he came so young again ; 
Still resting, though from sleep they still refrain ; 

Where all are rich, and yet no gold they owe ; 

And all are kings, and yet no subjects know ; 

All full, and yet no time they do on food bestow. 

About the holy city rolls a flood 

Of molten crystal, like a sea of glass, 
On which weak stream a strong foundation stood ; 

Of living diamonds the building was. 

That all things else, besides itself, did pass ; 
Her streets instead of stones, the stars did pave. 
And little pearls for dust it seemed to have, 
On which soft-streaming manna like pure snow did 
wave. 

It is no flaming lustre, made of light, 

No sweet consent, or well-tuned harmony, 
Ambrosia for to feast the appetite, 
Or flowery odor mixed with spicery, 
No soft embrace, or pleasure bodily; 
And yet it is a kind of inward feast, 
A harmony that sounds within the breast, 
An odor, light, embrace, in which the soul doth rest. 





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INHABITANTS OF HEAVEN. 349 

A heavenly feast no hunger can consume, 
A light unseen, yet shines in every place, 

A sound no time can steal, a sweet perfume 
No winds can scatter, an entire embrace 
That no satiety can e'er unlace ; 

Ingraced into so high a favor there, 

The saints with their beau-peers whole worlds outwear 

And things unseen do see, and things unheard do hear. 

Ye blessed souls, grown richer by your spoil, 

Whose loss, though great, is cause of greater gains ; 
Here may your wearied spirits rest from toil, 
Spending your endless evening that remains 
Among those white flocks and celestial trains 
That feed upon their Shepherd's eyes, and frame 
That heavenly music of so wondrous fame, 
Psalming aloud the holy honors of His name. 



MY SOUL, THERE IS A COUNTRIE. 



Henry Vaughan. 



MY soul, there is a countrie 
Afar beyond the stars, 
Where stands a winged sentrie, 
AU skilful in the wars. 

There, above noise and danger, 

Sweet peace sits crowned with smiles, 

And One born in a manger 

Commands the beauteous files. 





■- ^. 




350 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



He is thy gracious Friend, 
And (O my soul, awake !) 

Did in pure love descend 
To die here for thy sake. 

If thou canst get but thither, 

There grows the flowre of peace, 

The rose that cannot wither, 
Thy fortresse and thy ease. 

Leave, then, thy foolish ranges, 
For none can thee secure 

But One, who never changes, 
Thy God, thy Life, thy Cure. 








jte 





OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 



And they sing the song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song of the 
Lamb, saying, Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just and 
true are thy ways, thou King of Saints. — Rev. 15 : 3. 

Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in 
the temple : and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. — Rev. 7 : 16. 

And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of 
many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, Alleluia : for the 
Lord God omnipotent reigneth. — Rev. 19 : 6. 








$!t$( 




OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN, 



IN THE GREEN PASTURES. 



From the Spanish. By William Cullen Bryant. 



REGION of life and light, 
Land of the good whose earthly toils are o'er; 
Nor frost, nor heat may blight 
Thy vernal beauty, fertile shore, 
Yielding thy blessed fruits for evermore ! 

There, without crook or sling, 
Walks the Good Shepherd ; blossoms, white and red. 

Round His meek temples cling ; 

And to sweet pastures led, 
His own loved flock beneath His eye is fed. 

He guides, and near Him they 
Follow delighted ; for He makes them go 

Where dwells eternal May, 

And heavenly roses blow, 
Deathless, and gathered but again to grow. 

He leads them to the height, 
Named of the infinite and long-sought Good, 

And fountains of delight, 

And where His feet have stood 
Springs up along the way their tender food. 






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354 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And when, in the mid skies, 
The climbing sun has reached his highest bound, 

Reposing as He lies, 

With all His flock around, 
He witches the still air with numerous sound. 

From His sweet lute flow forth 
Immortal harmonies, of power to still 

All passions born of earth, 

And draw the ardent will 
Its destiny of goodness to fulfill. 

Might but a little part, 
A wandering breath, of that high melody 

Descend into my heart 

And change it, till it be 
Transformed and swallowed up, O Love, in Thee-! 

Ah ! then beloved I should know, 
Where Thou liest at noon of day, 

And from this place of woe 

Released, should take my way 
To mingle with Thy flock, and never stray. 



PALMS OF GLORY, RAIMENT WHITE. 



James Montgomery. 



PALMS of glory, raiment bright, 
Crowns that never fade away, 
Gird and deck the saints in light ; 

Priests and kings and conquerors they. 






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OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 355 

Yet the conquerors bring their palms 

To the Lamb amidst the throne, 
And proclaim, in joyful psalms 

Victory through His cross alone. 

Kings for harps their crowns resign, 

Crying as they strike the chords, 
" Take the kingdom — it is Thine, 

King of kings, and Lord of lords." 
Round the altar, priests confess, 

If their robes are white as snow, 
'Twas the Saviour's righteousness, 

And His blood that made them so. 

Who are these ? On earth they dwelt, 

Sinners once of Adam's race ; 
Guilt and fear, and suffering felt, 

But were saved by sovereign grace. 
They were mortal, too, like us ; 

Ah, when we like them must die, 
May our souls, translated thus, 

Triumph, reign, and shine on high. 



WHEN THE ANGELS ALL ARE SINGING. 



Sir Nicholas Breton. 



TI J HEN the angels all are singing 

V V All of glorie euer springing 
In the ground of high heauen's graces, 
Where all vertues haue their places ; 

Oh that my poore soule were neare them, 
With an humble heart to hear them ! 







j£g. 




35 6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Then should faith, in loue's submission 
Ioying but in mercie's blessing, 
Where that sinnes are in remission, 
Sing the ioyful soule's confessing ; 
Of her comforts high commending 
All in glorie neuer ending. 

But, ah wretched sinfull creature ! 
How should the corrupted nature 
Of this wicked heart of mine 
Thinke vpon that loue diuine, 

That doth tune the angel's voices, 
While the hoast of heauen reioyces ? 

No ! the songe of deadly sorrowe 
In the night that hath no morrow, 
And their paines are neuer ended 
That haue heauenly powers offended, 
Is more fitting to the merite 
Of my foule infected spirit. 

Yet while mercie is remoouing 
All the sorrowes of the louing, 
How can faith be full of blindnesse 
To despaire of mercie's kindnesse ; 
While the hand of heauen is giuing 
Comfort for the euer-liuing? 

No, my soule, be no more sorie ; 
Looke vnto that life of glorie 
Which the grace of faith regardeth, 
And the teares of loue rewardeth ; 
Where the soule the comfort getteth, 
That the angels' musique setteth. 





&. 




OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 357 

There when thou art well conducted, 
And by heauenly grace instructed 
How the faithfull thoughts to fashion 
Of a rauisht louer's passion, 

Sing with sainctes to angels nighest 

Halleluiah in the highest. 



THEY PRAISE HIM DAY AND NIGHT. 



Marianne FarninghAm. 



^T^HEY are perfectly blest — the redeemed and the 

1- free — 

Who are resting in joy by the smooth glassy sea ; 
They breathed here on earth all their sorrowful sighs, 
And Jesus has kissed all the tears from their eyes. 

They are happy at home ! They have learnt the new 

song, 
And warble it sweetly amid the glad throng ; 
No faltering voices, no discords are there — 
The melodious praises swell high through the air. 

There falls not on them the deep silence of night, 
They never grow weary — ne'er fadeth the light ; 
Throughout the long day new hosannahs they raise, 
And express their glad thoughts in exuberant praise. 

E'en thus would we praise thee, dear Saviour divine — 
We too would be with thee — loved children of thine ; 
O teach us, that we may sing perfectly there 
When we too are called to that city so fair. 






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358 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE ENDLESS ALLELUIA. 



Translated by T. G. Crippen in his book Ancient Hymns and Poems. 



[This celebrated hymn is at least as old as the 8th century. It occurs in the 
Mozarabic Breviary, where it is appointed for the Sunday before Septuagesima ; 
from which time till Easter Alleluia was not sung in the churches.] 

" Alleluia piis edite laudibus." 

ALLELUIA! let the holy sounds of cheerful praises 
ring, 
Freemen of the heavenly city; join in sweetest notes 
to sing 

Alleluia evermore. 

In the everlasting anthem while the hymning choirs 

unite, 
Alleluia shall uplift you hence to realms of endless 

light. 

Alleluia evermore. 

You, in God's illustrious city, shall a ready welcome 

greet, — 
City with glad songs resounding, where the echoes 

still repeat 

Alleluia evermore. 

Of that happy restoration freely gather all the joys, 
To the Lord ascribing glory, singing with melodious 
noise 

Alleluia evermore. 





IV ..— Tgjy 



OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 359 

Victors, of the star-bespangled fatherland ye. now at- 
tain 

All the radiant honors, wherefore peals aloud the 
ceaseless strain, — 

Alleluia evermore. 

Thence a sound of noble voices, grandly echoing, rolls 

along, 
Telling out the King's high praises in a blithe and 

merry song — 

Alleluia evermore. 

There is rest for all the weary, there immortal wine 

and bread, 
Sweetly luring home the travellers, plenteous, though 

they all be fed. 

Alleluia evermore. 

Thee, with all our hearts and voices, Maker of the 

world, we praise. 
And to Thy deserved honor our melodious music 

raise — 

Alleluia evermore. 

Thee, O Christ, as Lord Almighty, shall Thy glorious 

praise proclaim, 
By our gladsome voices chanted ; while we sing to 

Thy dear name, 

Alleluia evermore. 






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360 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



WHAT SONGS SHALL WE SING? 



Elias Nason. 



WHAT songs shall we sing on that evergreen 
shore 
Where the blessed in Jesus unite ? 
" Hymns of praise to the Prince whom the angels 
adore ; 
Hymns of praise with seraphic delight." 

What robes shall we wear on that evergreen shore 

Where the blessed in harmony sing ? 
" The robes of the glorified, gleaming all o'er 

With the brightness that shines from the King." 

W T hat flowers shall we cull on that evergreen shore 
Where the blessed in bright raiments rove ? 

" Red roses and lilies that fade nevermore, 
Breathing bliss through the gardens of love." 

What friends shall we greet on that evergreen shore 
Where the blessed find blossoms so fair ? 

"The loved ones of Jesus, who have passed on before, 
In rapture to welcome us there.'' 

What home shall we see on that evergreen shore 
Where the blessed meet those they loved here? 

" The mansions of beauty, with love-light in store, 
Where the King wipes away every tear." 



<^ 






.& 




OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 361 



THE MUSIC OF HEAVEN IS ATTUNED. 



F. E. Cox. 



THE music of Heaven is attuned to a measure 
Our Spirit's deep thirst ever longs for in vain ; 
For the music of earth, though it thrills us with 
pleasure, 
Gives pleasure not wholly unmingled with pain. 

And though for a moment the ear may be captured 
By notes that from Paradise seem to have birth, 

By sounds to which Angels might listen enraptured, 
The dream is dispelled by the voices of earth. 

Some weariness, pain, or some passing vexations 
The half-entranced soul from its bliss will recall ; 

Or the heart is unstrung, and the sweet modulations 
On heart-enchained senses untunefully fall. 

When resoundeth God's praise in the courts of His 
Dwelling, 

False jarrings of earth will too often begin ; 
And the higher and clearer the anthem is swelling, 

The more are we conscious of discord within, 

But it will not be thus when to Heavenly regions, 
Released from its thraldom, our Spirit takes wing, 

And uniting in concert with glorified legions, 

Shall learn that " new Song" which none other can 






Mm, 




362 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE SONG IS EVER NEW. 



Robert Pollok. 



THE song of Heaven is ever new, for daily thus, 
And nightly new discoveries are made 
Of God's unbounded wisdom, power and love 
Which give the understanding larger room, 
And swell the hymn with ever-growing praise. 



SUCH CONCORD IS IN HEAVEN. 



John Milton. 



NO sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all " 
The multitude of angels, with a shout 
Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heaven rung 
With jubilee, and loud Hosannas fill'd 
The eternal regions : lowly reverent 
Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground 
With solemn adoration down they cast 
Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold ; 
Immortal Amarant, a flower which once 
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life, 
Began to bloom ; but soon for man's offence 
To Heaven remov'd where first it grew, there grows, 
And flowers aloft, shading the fount of life, 
And where the river of bliss through midst of Heaven 







A 




OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 363 

Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream : 
With these that never fade the spirits elect 
Bind their resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams. 
Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright 
Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 
Impurpled with celestial roses smil'd. 
Then crowned again, their golden harps they took, 
Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side 
Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet 
Of charming symphony they introduce 
Their sacred song, and waken raptures high ; 
No voice exempt, no voice but well could join 
Melodious part, such concord*is in Heaven. 



THE EVERLASTING PRAISE. 



Anne Steele. 



OH for a sweet, inspiring ray, 
To animate our feeble strains, 
From the bright realms of endless day, 
The blissful realms where Jesus reigns ! 

There, low before His glorious throne, 

Adoring saints and angels fall, 
And, with delightful worship, own 

His smile their bliss, their heaven, their all. 

Immortal glories crown His head, 

While tuneful hallelujahs rise, 
And love and joy and triumph spread 

Through all th' assemblies of the skies. 







>&/_ 




364 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

He smiles, and seraphs tune their songs 
To boundless rapture while they gaze 

Ten thousand thousand joyful tongues 
Resound His everlasting praise. 

There all the favorites of the Lamb 
Shall join at last the heavenly choir : 

Oh, may the joy-inspiring theme 
Awake our faith and warm desire ! 



ALLELUIA TO THE LAMB. 



From the Latin. 

ALLELUIA! sweetest music, voice of everlasting 
joy! 
Alleluia is the language which the heavenly hosts 
employ, 

As they ever sing to God, 
In that pure and blest abode. 

Alleluia ! joyful mother, true Jerusalem above ! 
Alleluia is the music which thy happy children love ; 

Exiles, tears our songs must steep; 

Oft by Babel's streams we weep. 

Alleluia cannot ever be our joyous psalm below ; 

Alleluia — sin will cross it often here with tones of woe ; 
Many a mournful hour we know 
When our tears for sin must flow. 







A 




OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 365 

Therefore, 'mid our tears still praising, grant us, blessed 

Trinity, 
Thy true paschal feast hereafter in the heavenly home 
to see, 

Where our song shall ever be, 
Alleluia unto Thee ! 



ANGEL CHOIRS ON HIGH ARE SINGING. 



" Astant angelorum chori, 
Laudes cantant Creatori, 
Regem cernunt in decore, 
Amant corde, laudant ore." 
From the Latin of the celebrated Thomas a Kempis, Translated by Erastus 
C. Benedict. 



ANGEL choirs on high are singing, 
To the Lord their praises bringing, 
Yielding Him in royal beauty 
Heart and voice, in love and duty ; 
Waving wings the throne surrounding, 
Timbrels, harps, and bells are sounding. 
See their heavenly vestments glisten ; 
To their heavenly music listen : 
Hear them, by the Godhead staying, 
Holy, holy, holy, saying. 

None that grieveth or complaineth 
In that heavenly land remaineth : 
Every voice, in concord joining, 
Holy praise to God combining. 
Holy love their minds disposeth ; 
Heavenly light to all discloseth 






-$!%■ 



366 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Blessed Three in God united. 
Seraphs worshipping delighted, 
Sweet affection overflowing ; 
Cherubim their reverence showing, 
Bowing low, their pinions folding, 
God's majestic throne beholding. 

Oh, what fair and heavenly region ! 
Oh, what bright and glorious legion ! 
Saints and angels all excelling, 
In that glorious city dwelling, 
Which in rest divine reposeth, 
And sweet light and peace discloseth. 
Every one who there resideth 
Clad in purity abideth ; 
Charity their spirits joining, 
Firm in unity combining; 
Toil nor ignorance undergoing, 
Trouble nor temptation knowing; 
Always health and joy undying 
To them every good supplying. 



SERAPHS WITH ELEVATED STRAINS. 



Isaac Watts. 



SERAPHS with elevated strains 
Circle the throne around, 
And move and charm the starry plains 
With an immortal sound. 






^: 





OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 367 

Jesus the Lord their harps employs ; 

Jesus, my love, they sing ; 
Jesus, the name of both our joys, 

Sounds sweet from every string. 

Hark, how beyond the narrow bounds 

Of time and space they run, 
And speak, in most majestic sounds, 

The Godhead of the Son ; — 

How on the Father's breast he lay, 

The darling of His soul, 
Infinite years before the day 

Or heavens began to roll. 

And now they sink the lofty tones, 

And gentler notes they play, 
And bring the eternal Godhead down 

To dwell in humble clay. 

Thus, while with unambitious strife 

Th* ethereal minstrels rove 
Through all the labors of His life 

And wonders of His love, 

In the full choir a broken string 

Groans with a strange surprise ; 
The rest in silence mourn their King, 

Who bleeds, and loves, and dies. 

Seraph and saint, with drooping wings, 

Cease their harmonious breath ; 
No blooming trees, nor bubbling springs, 

While Jesus sleeps in death. 







xtn. 



368 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Then all at once to living strains 
They summon every chord, 

Break up the tomb, and burst his chains, 
And show their rising Lord ! 

Around the flaming army throngs 
To guard Him to the skies, 

With loud hosannas on their tongues, 
And triumph in their eyes. 

In awful state the conquering God 
Ascends His shining throne, 

While tuneful angels sound abroad 
The victories He has won. 

Now let me rise and join their song, 

And be an angel too ; 
My heart, my hand, my ear, my tongue, 

Here's joyful work for you ! 

I would begin the music here, 
And so my soul should rise; 

Oh for some heavenly notes to bear 
My spirit to the skies ! 

There ye that love my Saviour sit ; 

There I would fain have place, 
Amongst your thrones, or at your feet, 

So I might see His face. 

I am confined to earth no more, 
But mount in haste above, 

To bless the God that I adore, 
And sing the Man I love ! 






yfry 




OCCUPATION OF HEAVEN. 369 



SING WITH ME WEEPING BRETHREN. 



James Hogg. 



SING with me, sing with me, 
Weeping brethren, sing with me ! 
For now an open heaven I see, 
And a crown of glory laid for me. 
How my soul this earth despises! 
How my heart and spirit rises ! 
Bounding from the flesh I sever ; 
World of sin, adieu forever! 

Sing with, me, sing with me, 
Friends in Jesus, sing with me ! 
All my sufferings, all my woe, 
All my griefs I here forego. 
Farewell, terrors, .sighing, grieving, 
Praying, hearing, and believing, 
Earthly trust and all its wrongings, 
Earthly love and all its longings. 

Sing with me, sing with me, 
Blessed spirits, sing with me ! 
To the Lamb our songs shall be, 
Through a glad eternity. 
Farewell, earthly morn and even, 
Sun, and moon, and stars of heaven ; 
Heavenly portals ope before me, 
Welcome Christ in all His glory ! 
24 







^B 




370 KEAVEN IN SONG. 



THEY KEEP THE JOYOUS JUBILEE. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



CHURCH of the ever-living God, 
The Father's gracious choice. 
Amid the voices of this earth 
How feeble is thy voice ! 

Not many rich or noble called, 

Not many great or wise ; 
They whom God makes His kings and priests 

Are poor in human eyes. 

But the chief Shepherd comes at length ; 

Their feeble days are o'er, 
No more a handful in the earth, 

A little flock no more. 

No more a lily among thorns, 

Weary and faint and few ; 
But countless as the stars of heaven, 

Or as the early dew. 

Then entering th' eternal halls, 

In robes of victory, 
That mighty multitude shall keep 

The joyous jubilee. 

Unfading palms they bear aloft ; 

Unfaltering songs they sing; 
Unending festival they keep, 

In presence of the King. 







y&M 





REST OF HEAVEN, 



There remaineth, therefore, a rest to the people of God. — Heb. 4 : 9. 

They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more ; neither shall the sun 
light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne 
shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters ; and God 
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. — Rev. 7 : 17. 

And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall 
there be any more pain : for the former things are passed away. — Rev. 21 : 4. 








^ 




THE REST OF HEAVEN 



WHEN SHALL I BE AT REST? 



Church of England Quarterly. 



^T 7HEN shall I be at rest ? My trembling heart 
V V Grows weary of its burden ; sickening still 
With hope deferred. Oh, that it were Thy will 
To loose my bonds, and take me where Thou art ! 

When shall I be at rest ? my eyes grow dim 

With straining through the gloom ; I scarce can see 
The way-marks that my Saviour left for me ; 

Would it were morn, and I were safe with Him ! 

When shall I be at rest? Hand over hand 
I grasp, and climb an ever steeper hill, 
A rougher path. Oh, that it were Thy will 

My tired feet had reached the Promised Land ! 

Oh, that I were at rest ! A thousand fears 
Come thronging o'er me, lest I fail at last. 
Would I were safe, all toil and danger past, 

And Thine own hand had wiped away my tears ! 

Oh, that I were at rest like some I love, 

W 7 hose last fond looks drew half my life away, 
Seeming to plead that either they might stay 

With me on earth, or I with them above ! 



y 





jgg : 




374 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



REST FOR THEE IN HEAVEN. 



i 



F ever iife should seem 
To thee a tedious way, 
And gladness cease to beam 

Upon its clouded day ; 
If, like the weary dove, 

O'er shoreless oceans driven, 
Raise thou thine eye above, 
There's rest for thee in heaven. 



But O, if thornless flowers 

Throughout thy pathway bloom, 
And gayly fleet the hours, 

Unstained by earthly gloom ; 
Still, let not every thought 

To this poor world be given ; 
Nor always be forgot, 

Thy better rest in heaven." 



THEN WELCOME CHANGE AND DEATH. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



NOT long, not long ! — The spirit-wasting fever 
Of this strange life shall quit each throbbing 
vein ; 
And this wild pulse flow placidly for ever ; 
And endless peace relieve the burning brain. 



^ 






m. 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 375 

Earth's joys are but a dream ; its destiny 
Is but decay and death. Its fairest form 

Sunshine and shadow mixed. Its brightest day 
A rainbow braided on the wreaths of storm. 

Yet there is blessedness that changeth not ; 

A rest with God, a life that cannot die ; 
A better portion and a brighter lot ; 

A home with Christ, a heritage on high. 

Hope for the hopeless, for the weary, rest, 
More gentle than the still repose of even ! 

Joy for the joyless, bliss for the unblest ; 
Homes for the desolate in yonder heaven! 

The tempest makes returning calm more dear ; 

The darkest midnight makes the brightest star, 
Even so to us when all is ended here, 

Shall be the past, remembered from afar. 

Then welcome change and death ! Since these alone 
Can break life's fetters, and dissolve its spell ; 

Welcome all present change, which speeds us on 
So swift to that which is unchangeable. 



TELL ME, YE WINGED WINDS. 



Charles Mackay. 



TELL me, ye winged winds, 
That round my pathway roar, 
Do ye not know some spot 

Where mortals weep no more ? 







4|fy. 




376 . HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Some lone and pleasant dell, 

Some valley in the west, 
Where free from toil and pain, 
The weary soul may rest ? 
The loud wind softened to a whisper low, 
And sighed for pity as it answered, " No ! " 

Tell me, thou mighty deep, 

Where billows' round me play, 
Know'st thou some favored spot, 

Some island far away, 
Where weary man may find 

The bliss for which he sighs, 
Where sorrow never lives, 

And friendship never dies ? 
The loud waves, rolling in perpetual flow. 
Stopped for awhile, and answered " No ! " 

And thou, serenest moon, 

That with such holy face 
Dost look upon the earth, 

Asleep in night's embrace, 
Tell me, in all thy round, 

Hast thou not seen some spot 
Where miserable man 

Might find a happier lot? 
Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in wo, 
And a voice sweet, but sad, responded " No ! " 

Tell me, my secret soul, 

Oh ! tell me, Hope and Faith, 
Is there no resting place 

From sorrow, sin, and death — 







fh^ 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 377 

Is there no happy spot, 

Where mortals may be blessed, 
Where grief may find a balm, 
And weariness a rest ? 
Faith, Hope, and Love — best boons to mortals given — 
Wav'd their bright wings and whispered, Yes, in Heaven. 



MY REST IS NOT HERE. 



Henry Francis Lyte. 



MY rest is in heaven, my rest is not here ; 
Then why should I murmur when trials are 
near ? 
Be hushed, my dark spirit ; the worst that can come 
But shortens thy journey, and hastens thee home. 

It is not for me to be seeking my bliss, 
And building my hopes in a region like this ; 
I look for a city which hands have not piled, 
I pant lor a country by sin undefiled. 

The thorn and the thistle around me may grow, — 
I would not lie down upon roses below ; 
I ask not my portion, I seek not a rest, 
Till I find them forever in Jesus' breast. 

Afflictions may damp me, they cannot destroy; 
One glimpse of His love turns them all into joy, 
And the bitterest tears, if He smile but on them, 
Like the dew in the sunshine, grow diamond and gem. 






Jte 




378 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Let doubt, then, and danger, my progress oppose; 
They only make heaven more sweet at the close. 
Come joy or come sorrow, whate'er may befall, 
An hour with my God will make up for them all. 

A scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand, 
I'll march on in haste in an enemy's land ; 
The road may be rough, but it cannot be long, 
And I'll smooth it with hope and cheer it with song ! 



YES, THERE REMAINETH A REST. 



From the German. Translated by Miss Winkworth. 



YES, there remaineth yet a rest ; 
Arise, sad heart, that darkly pines, 

By heavy care and pain oppressed, 
On whom no sun of gladness shines ; 

Look to the Lamb ! — in yon bright fields 

Thou'lt know the joy His presence yields. 

Cast off thy load and thither haste ; 

Soon shalt thou fight and bleed no more, 
Soon, soon thy weary course be o'er, 

And deep the rest thou then shalt taste. 

The rest appointed thee of God ; 

The rest that naught sl^ll break or move, 
That ere this earth by man was trod 

Was set apart for thee by love. 
Thy Saviour gave His life to win 
This rest for thee ; oh, enter in ! 







A. 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 379 

Hear how His voice sounds far and wide ; 

" Ye weary souls no more delay ; 

Loiter not faithless by the way ; 
Here in my peace and rest abide ! " 

Yonder in joy the sheaves we bring, 

Whose seed was sown on earth in tears ; 
There in our Father's house we sing 

The song too sweet for mortal ears ; 
Sorrow and sighing all are past, 
And pain and death are fled at last ; 
There with the Lamb of God we dwell ; 

He leads us to the crystal river ; 

He wipes away ah tears forever ; 
What there is ours no tongue can tell. 

Hunger nor thirst can pain us there ; 

The time of recompense is come, 
Nor cold, nor scorching heat we bear, 

Safe sheltered in our Saviour's home ; 
The Lamb is in the midst, and those 
Who followed Him through shame and woes 
Are crowned with honor, joy and peace ; 

The dry bones gather life again ; 

One Sabbath over all shall reign, 
Wherein all toil and labor cease. 

There is untroubled calm and light, 
No gnawing care shall mar our rest ; 

Ye weary, heed this word aright ; 

Come, lean upon your Saviour's breast ! 

Fain would I linger here no more, 

Fain to yon happier world upsoar, 







jgu 




380 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And join that bright expectant band ! 
Oh, raise my soul, the joyful song 
That rings through yon triumphant throng, 
Thy perfect rest is nigh at hand !• 



AND IS THERE, LORD, A REST? 



Ray Palmer. 



AND is there, Lord, a rest, 
For weary souls designed, 
Where not a care shall stir the breast 
Or sorrow entrance find ? 

Is there a blissful home, 

Where kindred minds shall meet, 
And live, and love, nor ever roam 

From that serene retreat ? 

Are tire re- bright, happy fields, 

Where nought that blooms shall die ; 

Where each' new scene fresh pleasure yields, 
And healthful breezes sigh ? 

Are there celestial streams, 

Where living waters glide, 
With murmurs sweet as angel dreams, 

And flowery banks beside ? 

Forever blessed they 

W T hose joyful feet shall stand 
While endless ages waste away 

Amid that glorious band ! 





jfr 



THE REST OF HEAVEN. 38 1 

My soul would thither tend 

While toilsome years are given ; 
Then let me, gracious God, ascend 

To sweet repose in Heaven ! 



O RESTFUL HOME WE TURN TO THEE. 



Marianne Farningham. 



" Neither shall there be any more pain." 

HOW sweetly rest at home those who have acted 
In life's e'er painful drama darkling parts; 
There nevermore are aching brows contracted, 

There nevermore bleed bruised and broken hearts. 

Not there, as here, sad eyes are watching, weeping, 
Beloved ones toss through nights of wearying pain ; 

Not then, as now, is death its cold hands steeping 
Deep in the blood and tears of all the slain. 

There the sharp cut of harsh neglect ne'er bringeth 
Tears to the eyes, whence tears are wiped away ; 

There hate or anger ne'er its wild dart flingeth 
Upon the unshielded : there is peace alway. 

In heaven is perfect health — no pain, no weakness, 
No brooding sorrow, no oppressive fears ; 

The pure, the blest, made perfect in their meekness, 
Pass tranquilly adown the eternal years. 






A- 




382 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O restful home for us the broken-hearted, 
We turn our eyes to thee, amid our pain ; 

When shall life's pressing sorrows have departed, 
And we have reached the shadowless again? 



UNTIL THE EVENING WE MUST WEEP AND 

TOIL. 



Anonymous. 



THE stream is calmest when it nears the tide, 
The flowers are sweetest at the eventide, 
The birds most musical at close of day, 
And saints divinest when they pass away. 

Morning is lovely, but a holier charm 
Lies folded in the evening's robe of balm, 
And weary man must ever love her best, 
For morning calls to toil, but flight brings rest. 

Until the evening we must weep and toil, 
Plough life's stern furrows, dig the weedy soil; 
Tread with sad feet our rough and thorny way, 
And bear the heat and burthen of the day. 

Oh, when our sun is setting, may we glide, 
Like summer's evening, down the golden tide ; 
And leave behind us, as we pass away, 
Sweet starry twilight ! round our sleeping clay ! 








THE REST OF HEAVEN. 383 



NO TOSSING OF THE BURNING HEAD. 



Marianne Farningham. 



NO tossing of the burning head 
After the long day's closing; 
No weary night-long watches where 

The spirit is reposing. 
Hot little hands shall no more stretch 

Imploringly before us ; 
We shall not weep in hopelessness 
When God's own house is o'er us. 

No crying of the little ones, 

W T aking our feeble pity ; 
No groans arise at eventide 

Within the golden city ; 
For God's own hand has wiped the tears 

From all that band of weepers, 
And only music soft and low 

Awakes the peaceful sleepers. 

No aching limbs lie helplessly, 

Waiting the Saviours healing; 
For all are whole in that blest home, 

And perfect every feeling. 
No sighs, and sobs, and wild distress, 

No dread of storm or riot ; 
But perfect health, unbroken peace, 

Amid the sacred quiet. 







4|g: 



3 04 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There shall be no more pain ! O home 

So far from danger dreary ! 
O, holy, happy resting-place 

For all the worn and weary ! 
God guide our feeble halting feet 

Safe to the blissful haven ! 
God give us all His healing touch. 

And bring us all to heaven ! 



YET A LITTLE CARE AND WEEPING. 



From the German. 



YET a little care and weeping, 
Yet a little toil unsleeping 
Here in hope and trust be sown ! 
Steep and sultry is the way : 
Seek the pilgrim's tears to stay, 

Love, that near him travels on ! 

For one comfort, from above 
Sounds the voice of heavenly love,— 

From the mansions of the blest, — 
" Here, where bloometh Life's fair tree, 
Wiped away the tear shall be, 

By the Lamb, in endless rest." 

Near is evening, cool and sweet, 
Autumn after summer's heat ; 

Soon we cease in grief to roam. 
Hear the hours that strike so fast, 
Hour by hour, until the last 

Bears us to our Father's home ! 







-A 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 385 

Every pilgrim who has borne 
What we all must bear in turn, 

Leaves a ray of golden light ; 
And his footsteps trace the road 
To the city, built by God, 

To his feast, in glory bright. 

See ! a light cloud hovers o'er us, 
Of the loved ones gone before us 

In the Master's pathway here : 
Rise, ye weary ones ; be strong ! 
Toil and strife will not be long, 

Victory, rest, and home are near ! 



PASS OVER TO THE REST OF GOD. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



FROM this bleak hill of storms, 
To yon warm sunny heights, 
Where love forever shines, 

Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 

From hunger and from thirst, 

From toil and weariness, 

From shadows and from dreams, 
Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 

25 







ZtlL: 



386 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

From tides, and winds, and waves, 
From shipwrecks of the deep, 
From parted anchors here, 

Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 

From weakness and from pain, 
From trembling and from strife, 
From watchings and from fears, 

Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 

From vanity and lies, 
From mockery and snares, 
From disappointed hopes. 

Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 

From falsehoods of the age, 
From broken ties and hearts, 
From suns gone down at noon, 

Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 

From unrealities, 

From hollow scenes of change, 

From ache and emptiness, 

Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 

From this unanchored world, 
Whose morrow none can tell, 
From all things restless here, 

Pass over to thy rest, 
The rest of God ! 




-^ 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 3S7 



OH SPIRIT, FREED FROM BONDAGE. 



Mary Howitt. 



OH Spirit, freed from bondage, 
Rejoice, thy work is done ! 
The weary world is 'neath thy feet, 
Thou, brighter than the sun! 

Arise, put on thy garments, 
Which the redeemed win ! 

Now sorrow hath no part in thee, 
Thou sanctified from sin ! 

Awake and breathe the living air, 

Of .our celestial clime ! 
Awake to love that knows no change, 

Thou, who hast done with time ! 

Awake, lift up thy joyful eyes, 
See, all heaven's host appears ; 

And be thou glad exceedingly, 
Thou who hast done with tears ! 

Awake ! ascend ! thou art not now 
With those of mortal birth,- — 

The living God hath touched thy lips, 
Thou who hast done with earth ! 







4t& 




388 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



SWEET MUST IT BE TO DWELL. 

SWEET must it be to dwell secure 
From sinful stain, from thought impure, 
No wandering footstep to retrace, 
No mourning for the Saviour's face : 
And this our happy lot shall be 
When we have crossed the crystal sea. 

How oft the struggling spirit tries 
For blest communion with the skies ; 
How oft we pray that we may bear 
Christ's perfect image, even here ; 
And O, like Jesus we shall be 
When we have crossed the crystal sea. 

They who have safely gone before, 
Whose feet grow weary never more, 
Receive in that dear land of bliss 
All their souls panted for in this ; 
And their enjoyment ours shall be 
When we have crossed the crystal sea. 



MOURNER, LOOK ABOVE. 



Mary S. Robbins. 



ART thou a wanderer? doth no loved one's smile 
E'er meet thine own, thy sorrows to beguile ? 
In this wide world, hast thou no heartfelt claim ? 
Lingers there not within some cherished name 







_^jy. 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 389 

Of one, perhaps, who far in childhood's hour, 
Won thy young heart, and still with lingering power 
Retains the precious gem, though time has wove 
A web which dims the lustre of thy love ? 
Hast thou no harbor on life's troubled sea? 
Wanderer, there's rest in heaven for thee. 

Ait thou a mourner? doth the cold earth cover 
The forms of loved ones all, none left to hover 
Around thy pathway? must thou tread alone 
Life's dreary walk, looking for naught beyond 
To smile upon thy toil ? no word of love 
To recompense thee ? Mourner, look above! 
When life's dull task is over, then my soul 
Shall find its long anticipated goal ; 
And friends shall smile and welcome thee with song, 
And thine own voice shall help the strain prolong. 
So murmur not, for when from earth once free, 
There's rest in heaven for weary souls like thee. 



I'M WEARY OF STRAYING. 



Mrs. Hinsdale. 



I'M weary of straying ! O fain would I rest 
In that far distant land of the pure and the blest, 
Where sin can no longer its blandishments spread, 
And tears and temptations for ever have fled. 

I am weary of hoping — where hope is untrue, — 
As fair, but as fleeting, as morning's bright dew. 
I long for that land whose blest promise alone, 
Is changeless and sure as eternity's throne. 






-^ 




390 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I am weary of sighing o'er sorrows of earth, — 
O'er joy's glowing visions, that fade at their birth. 
O'er the pangs of the loved, that we cannot assuage ; 
O'er the blightings of youth and the weakness of age. 

I am weary, my Saviour, of grieving thy love, — 

Oh when shall I rest in thy presence above ! 

I am weary, — but oh, let me never repine, 

While thy word, and thy love, and thy promise are mine 



THEN OPEN, O GATE OF SLEEP. 



Christian Treasury. 



OPEN, O gate of sleep ! 
I am weary, and fain would go 
Where hearts never sorrow, and eyes never weep 

Bitterly tears of woe : 
I would rest in the shadow, cool and deep, 
Where the crystal waters flow. 

For heavy and dark doth lie 

Death's shadow on all below: 
The changing beauty of earth and sky 

Decks but a house of woe : 
There's a fount of tears that is never dry, 

A rest that we never know. 

Then away to the beautiful land 

Whence the shadow for aye is fled ! 

I shall meet the loved on its sunny strand, 
The loved and the long-lost dead ; 

I shall welcome a bright immortal band, 
By the angels gently led. 






jte. 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 39 1 

Then open, O gate of sleep ! 

I am weary, and fain would go 
Where hearts never sorrow, and eyes never weep 

Bitterly, tears of woe : 
I long to rest in the shadow deep 

Where the crvstal fountains flow. 



I THANK THEE FOR THAT WORD OF 
PEACE. 



W. S. COLTON. 



" There remaineth therefore a rest for the people of God." 

I THANK Thee, Father, for that word of peace — 
Rest, rest forever when Life's cares are o'er ; — 
Changeless repose ! O calm and sweet release 
From all of sorrow we have known before ; 
From sin whose burden we shall feel no more — 

Freedom how blest ! and from the sinner's ways. 
Who shall not follow to that heavenly shore, 
Nor with his evil cloud the unsullied rays 
Of love and joy that shine through everlasting days! 

I know, O Father, that Thy works are fair : — 

This strange, bright world was builded by Thine 
hand, 

And round it the unmeasured heights of air 

Rise, purple-arched and vast, o'er every land ; — 






^ 




392 . HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The storm-vexed ocean chafing on the strand ; 

The mountains proudly pointing to the sky ; 
The ancient forests, breeze or tempest-fanned — 

All these are beautiful, and fill the eye, 
And crowd the mind with thoughts of that which can- 
not die. 

Yet mid these glorious things the spirit mourns, 

And finds not rest in all their loveliness ; 
A hidden fever still within.it burns, 

A. secret sorrow it may not confess — 
A feeling of earth's utter nothingness 

It cannot bid depart ; — but bends again 
Beneath its load, nor finds that burden less, 

And longs some quiet place — but longs in vain ! — 
Some port to make, like ships that breast the troubled 
main. 

Oft have I walked amid the busy throng 

Of some great city, and with earnest thought, 
As moved the unnumbered waves of life along 

In rushing conflict, from each face have sought 
To learn that being's history, inwrought 

And speaking there ; — to know the inmost soul, 
The mystic lines no other eyes have caught 

Of joy or woe — what fears, what hopes control 
Its present life, and mark beyond its future goal. 

But all with joyless and unsettled mien 

Passed feverish by ; nor aught of peace or rest 

Seemed they to know ; each countenance was seen 
To show — sad proof! — its owner all unblest : 







j£k: 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 393 

Some heeded pleasure, and her soft behest, 
Where'er it lead them, they must still obey, 

Insanely sporting on the dizzy crest 

Ridged o'er her damning gulf, wherein alway 

The fair, foul goddess leaves her hapless, mangled 
prey. 

Some wished for Fame, and others sighed for gold, 

For piled-up mountains of the shining dust ; 
And from the poor and needy turned with cold, 

Unpitying eyes ; who made not God their trust, 
But riches ; and with fierce, devouring lust 

Grasped its vain honors, caring not if o'er 
The bright, immortal spirit mouldering rust 

And mildew crept, corroding to the core, 
And eating out its life and peace forever more. 

O world ! 'twere happiness in Life's young spring 

If one might griefless know how poor thou art ; 
And early find that all thy pleasures bring 

No joy to satisfy the longing heart 
Of one immortal. Oh ! from thee to part, 

When God shall will it, to some bright abode 
Of sinless peace ! — To leave thy sickening mart 

Of empty shows, and, swiftly climb the road 
That leads from Earth to Christ, to glory and to God ! 

So Man and nature, powerless, cannot fill 
The vast desires that in me burning rise, 

And round the far and dim horizon still 

From them no ray of promise greets my eyes ; — ■ 






=& 



394 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Nor breaks the day, nor kindle up the skies 

With morn's sweet light — -but dark the shadows 
loom 

Before me, where my lonely pathway lies 
Along Life's journey : — Yet amid the gloom 

There gleams one fixed star, a light beyond the tomb. 

Yes! there is peace! — beyond this sphere of time 

Its dwelling-place ; and there the weary be 
At rest ; and from that blissful and eternal clime 

Sorrow and sin — oh ! thought of joy ! — shall flee 
Away forever; and a boundless sea 

Of living light its sweet, glad waves shall roll 
In everlasting splendor; — they shall see 

As eye to eye ; and God's supreme control 
O'er Heaven extend, and bind each ransomed soul to 
soul. 



BEYOND THIS TOILSOME CLIME. 



Anonymous. 



NO quiet here ! 
But far above, in regions of the blest, 
The weary soul shall find its lasting rest ! 

There's quiet there ! 
In that far Home beyond this toilsome clime, 
A calm and holy quiet, through all time. 

No gladness here ! 
But in that wondrous home to which we go, 
Eternal joys through endless ages flow : 







jf£%. 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 



395 



There's gladness there : — 
And when this cloud of earth has passed away, 
We shall go in to share eternal day. 

No sunshine here ! 
The shadows always hover close around ; 
But, oh, above ! such radiant beams abound, 

There's sunshine there, 
Where He, the " Sun of Righteousness," doth shine, 
And earth-worn souls rejoice in light divine. 

No goodness here ! 
Sin has so many snares for our weak' hearts; 
But from that home all sinfulness departs. 

There's goodness there, 
Shed from the "fulness of the Holy One ; '' 
And robes of righteousness from Christ the Son. 

No treasure here ! 
Nothing that's worthy of our love and trust ! 
But wealth is there that time can never rust : 

There's treasure there, — 
Laid up by that same Father's loving hand, 
Who gently leads us towards that Better Land. 








^ 



396 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THAT WEARINESS MAY TOSS HIM TO MY 
BREAST. 



George Herbert. 



WHEN God at first made man, 
Having a glass of blessings standing by, 
" Let us," said he, " pour on him all we can ; 
Let the world's riches which dispersed lie, 
Contract into a span." 

So Strength first gave away ; 

Then Beauty flowed, then Wisdom, Honor, Pleasure ; 
When almost all was out, God made a stay, 
Perceiving that alone of all His treasure, 
REST in the bottom lay. 

" For if I should,'' said He, 

" Bestow this jewel also on my creature, 
He would adore my gifts instead of me, 
And rest in nature, not the God of nature- - 
So both should losers be. 

" Yet let him keep the rest — 

But keep them with repining restlessness ; 
Let him be rich and weary ; that at least, 
If goodness lead him not, yet weariness 

May toss him to my breast." 





^: 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 



397 



FIRST THE SORROWFUL, 
GLAD. 



AND THEN THE 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



TIS first the true, and then the beautiful ; 
Not first the beautiful and then the true : 
First the wild moor, with rock and reed and pool, 
Then the gay garden rich in scent and hue. 

Not first the glad, and then the sorrowful; 

But first the sorrowful, and then the glad : 
Tears for a day, for earth of tears is full ; 

Then we forget that we were ever sad. 

Not first the bright, and after that the dark ; 

But first the dark, and after that the bright : 
First the thick cloud, and then the rainbow's arc ; 

First the dark grave, then resurrection light. 

'T is first the night — stern night of storm and war. 

Long night of heavy clouds and veiled skies ; 
Then the fair sparkle of the Morning Star, 

That bids the saint awake, and day arise. 







=)& 




39 8 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



SPIRIT, THY LABOR IS O'ER. 



[Wolfgang Mozart, the great German composer, died at Vienna in the year 1791. 
His sweetest song was the last he sung — the Requiem. He had been employed 
upon this exquisite piece for several weeks, his soul filled with inspirations of rich- 
est melody, and already claiming kindred with immortality. After giving it its 
last touch, and breathing into it that undying spirit of song which was to conse- 
crate it through all time, as his " cygnean strain," he fell into a gentle and quiet 
slumber. At length the light footsteps of his daughter Emile awoke him. " Come 
hither," said he, "my Emilie — my task is done — the Requiem — my Requiem is fin- 
ished." " Say not so, dear father," said the gentle girl, interrupting him as tears 
stood in her eyes. "You must be better — you look better, for even now your 
cheek has a glow upon it — I am sure we will nurse you well again — let me bring 
you something refreshing." "Do not deceive yourself, my love," said the dying 
father, " this wasted form can never be restored by human aid. From heaven's 
mercy alone do I look for aid, in this my dying hour. You spoke of refreshment, 
my Emilie — take these my last notes — sit down to my piano here — sing with them 
the hymn of your sainted mother — let me once more hear those tones which have 
been so long my solacement and delight." Emilie obeyed, and with a voice en- 
riched with tenderest emotion, sung the following stanzas. As she concluded, 
she dwelt for a moment upon the low melancholy notes of the piece, and then 
turning from the instrument, looked in silence for the approving smile of her 
father. It was the still passionless smile which the rapt and joyous spirit left— 
with the seal of death upon those features.] 



SPIRIT! thy labor is o'er! 
Thy term of probation is run, 
Thy steps are now bound for the untrodden shore 
And the race of immortals begun. 



Spirit ! look not on the strife, 
Or the pleasures of earth with regret- 
Pause not on the threshold of limitless life, 
To mourn for the day that is set. 






^ti 



THE REST OF HEAVEN. 399 

Spirit ! no fetters can bind, 
No wicked have power to molest ; 
There the weary, like thee — the wretched shall find ; 
A heaven, a mansion of rest. 

Spirit ! how bright is the road 
For which thou art now on the wing, 
Thy home it will be, with thy Saviour and God, 
Their loud hallelujah to sing. 



HAVE YE FOUND THAT HAPPY CITY? 



From Household Words. 



OH birds from out 
west, 



the east, oh birds from out the 



Have ye found that happy City, in all your weary 
quest ? 

Tell me, tell me, from earth's wanderings may the 
heart find glad surcease ; 

Can ye show me, as an earnest, any olive-branch of 
peace ? 

I am weary of life's troubles, of its sin, and toil, and 
care ; 

I am faithless, crushing in my heart so many a fruit- 
less prayer ; 

Oh birds from out the east, oh birds from out the west, 

Can ye tell me of that City, " the name of which is 
Rest?" 







jjy. 



400 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Say, doth a dreamy atmosphere that blessed City 

crown ? 
Are there couches spread for sleeping, softer than 

eider-down ? 
Does the silver sound of waters, falling 'twixt its mar- 
ble walls, 
Hush its solemn silence, even into stiller intervals? 
Does the poppy shed i«ts influence there, or doth the 

fabled Moly 
With its peaceful, leaden Lethe, bathe the eyes with 

slumber holy? 
Do they never wake to sorrow, who after toilsome 

quest, 
Have entered in that City, " the name of which is 

Rest?" 



Doth the fancy wile not there for aye ? Is the rest- 
less soul's endeavor 

Hushed in a hymn of solemn calm, forever and for- 
ever? 

Are human natures satisfied of their intense de- 
sire — 

Is there no more good beyond to seek, or do they 
not aspire? 

But weary, weary, of the oar, within its yellow sun 

Do they lie and eat the lotus-leaves, and dream life's 
toil is done ? 

Oh tell me, do they there forget what here hath made 
them blest? 

Nor sigh again for home and friends, in the City called 
Rest? 





THE REST OF HEAVEN. 



40 T 



Oh, little birds, fly east again ; oh, little birds, fly west ; 
Ye have found no happy city, in all your weary 

quest ; — 
Still shall ye find no spot of rest wherever ye may 

stray, 
And still like ye the weary soul must wing its weary 

way ! 
There sleepeth no such city within the wide earth's 

bound — 
Nor hath the dreaming' fancy yet its blissful portals 

found ! 
We are but children, crying here, upon a Mother's 

breast, 
For life, and peace, and blessedness, and for eternal 

rest. 



Bless God ! I hear a still, small voice, above life's clam'- 

rous din, 
Saying, " Faint not, oh weary one, thou yet mayst 

enter in. 
That City is prepared for those who well do win the 

fight, 
Who tread the wine-press, till its blood hath washed 

them pure and white ; 
Within it is no darkness, nor any baleful flower 
Shall there oppress thy waking eyes with stupefying 

power ; 
It lieth calm, within the light of God's Peace-giving 

breast ; 
Its walls are called Salvation — that City's name is 

' Rest.' " 
26 



^ 






A 




402 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



YE GOLDEN LAMPS FAREWELL. 



Philip Doddridge. 



YE golden lamps of Heaven, farewell, 
With all your feeble light ; 
Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, 
Pale empress of the night. 

And thou, refulgent orb of day, 

In brighter flames arrayed ; 
My soul that springs beyond thy sphere 

No more demands thine aid. 

Ye stars are but the shining dust 

Of my divine abode, 
The pavement of those heavenly courts, 

Where I shall reign with God. 

The Father of Eternal Light 
Shall There His beams display; 

Nor shall one moment's darkness mix 
With that unvaried day ! 

No more the drops of piercing grief 

Shall swell into mine eyes, 
Nor the meridian sun decline 

Amidst those brighter skies. 

There, all the million of the saints 

Shall in one song unite, 
And each the bliss of all shall view, 

With infinite delight. 







THE REST OF HEAVEN. 403 



REST WHEN LIFE IS DONE. 



Effie Johnson. 



THERE remaineth, it is written, 
For the people of our God, 
Rest, a peaceful rest in heaven, 

When we sleep beneath the sod. 
When these fragile forms are resting 

In their low and quiet bed, 
And the beauteous flowers are springing 

From the turf above our head, 
And the holy, angels keeping 

Watch above our sleeping dust, 
Then our ransomed souls are resting 

With the God in whom we trust. 
Now, each fleeting hour is bearing 

Down to death's cold, sullen stream, 
Souls immortal, souls unransomed, 

Rouse thee, 'tis no time to dream ! 
Christian, gird thee with thine armor, 

Soon, oh, soon, thou'lt lay it down ! 
And thy sword and shield and helmet, 

Change for an immortal crown. 
Let thy crown be glittering brightly 

With the souls whom thou hast won, 
Then thy ransomed soul will sweetly 

Rest in heaven when life is done. 




^M 




404 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



FAR FROM THE DISCORD LOUD, 



Marianne Farningham. 



FAR from the discord loud, 
Far from the striving crowd, 
Far from the din, 
Far from the burning tears, 
Far from the crushing fears, 
Far from the sin. 

Up beyond toil and care, 
Far from the tainted air, 

Far from all pain, 
Out of the reach of crime, 
Far from this changing clime, 

We shall remain. 

Where the redeemed and blest 
Ever shall sweetly rest, 

No more to roam ; 
Where the curse dwelleth not, 
Sorrow is all forgot — 

There is our home. 

Where the joy-founts are stirred, 
Where the harp note is heard, 

Where the palms wave, 
Where the white-robed shall glide, 
Where the death dews are dried, 

Where is no grave. 






A 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 4^5 

There is our glorious home: 
Why do we longer roam 

Far from its peace? 
Soon may the hill be gained, 
Soon be the rest obtained, 

Soon the toil cease. 

Brother, press onward then ; 
Why should we linger when 

Home is in sight? 
On while the day is here, 
On while the way is clear, 

On ere the night ! 



THOSE ENDLESS SABBATHS SPENT. 



From Lyra Eucharistica. 



IS there a day 
In all the ever-brightening chain 
Of blessed Paradisal gain 
Most blessed alway? 
Does Sunday fall there with its thrill 
Of joy increasing still? 

When the blue sky 
Seems but the intervening screen 
Earth's nave and Heaven's choir between 

Do those on high 
Unite with our less worthy throng 

In one Cathedral song? 







m. 




406 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Ah ! who can tell ? 
Some memory that earthward clings, 
Some sympathy with former things, 

Some soft pure spell, 
May make the first day of earth's seven 

The best, e'en in Heaven. 

Our Sundays seem 
To meet those endless Sabbaths spent 
In holy joy and sweet content 

Beside Love's stream, 
That bears all souls yet on its breast 

Unto eternal Rest. 



SORROW AND SIGHING SHALL FLEE AWAY. 



Marianne Farningham. 



NO shadows gather 
Where undimm'd eyes gaze on the Father : 
There the thick veil of sin is rent, 
And the dark night of woe is spent ; 
There, souls 'mid clouds of darkness are not groping, 
And vainly hoping ! 

There is no yearning, 
No deep unrest, no spirit burning, 

No arms outstretched, to clasp the air; 
No breaking hearts ; no wild, wild prayer ; 
No grim despair to blight the mind with madness : 
No sin, no sadness! 







^ 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 407 

There is no sorrow, 
No storm-winds wail of ill to-morrow; 
But clear, smooth waters' flow, 
And music soft and low ; 
And peace-words from God's fount of love are gushing, 
All sorrow hushing ! 

•There is no sighing 
O'er the unloving or the dying: 

There eloquent smiles the fond lips wreathe ; 
There hearts of deathless friendship breathe ; 
There, where love tokens evermore are thronging, 
Is no more longing ! 

Home of the weary, 
Of all the tempest-wrecked and dreary ; 
God, guide us to thy brilliant shore, 
Where — wild waves swelling high no more — 
Sorrow and sighing shade the spirit never — 
Flown, flown forever ! 



GOD'S OWN SMILE, FOREVER AND FOR- 
EVER. 



Jane Crewdson. 



WHAT then ? Why then another pilgrim song 
And then, a hush of rest, divinely granted ; 
And then, a thirsty stage ; (ah, me, so long !) 
And then, a brook just where it most is wanted. 







jgg. 




408 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

What then? The pitching of the evening tent ; 

And then, perchance, a pillow rough and thorny ; 
And then, some sweet and tender message, sent 

To cheer the faint one for to-morrow's journey. 

What then ? The wailing of the midnight wind ; 

A feverish sleep ; a heart oppressed and aching ; 
And then, a little water-cruise to find 

Close by my pillow, ready for my waking. 

What then ? I am not careful to inquire ; 

I know there will be tears, and fears, and sorrows ; 
And then a loving Saviour drawing nigher, 

And saying, " I will answer for the morrow." 

What then ? For all my sins His pardoning grace ; 

For all my wants and woes His loving kindness; 
For darkest shades, the shining of God's face, 

And Christ's own hand to lead me in my blindness. 

What then ? A shadowy valley, lone and dim ; 

And then, a deep and darkly rolling river; 
And then, a flood of light — a seraph's hymn, 

And God's own smile, forever and forever. 



SAFE HOME AT LAST. 

SAFE Home, safe Home in port ! 
Rent cordage, shattered deck, 
Torn sails, provision short, 
And only not a wreck : 







jgg 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 409 

But O the joy upon the shore, 
To tell our voyage perils o'er! 

The prize, the prize secure ! 

The warrior nearly fell ; 
Bare all he could endure, 
And bare not always well : 
But he may smile at troubles gone 
Who sets the victor-garland on ! 

No more the foe can harm : 

No more of leaguer' d camp, 
And cry of night alarm, 
And need of ready lamp : 
And yet how nearly had he fail'd, — 
How nearly had that foe prevailed ! 

The lamb is in the fold 

In perfect safety penn'd ; 
The lion once had hold, 

And thought to make an end ; 
But One came by with wounded side, 
And for the sheep the Shepherd died. 



A REST HERE HAVE I NEVER. 



Paul Gerhardt: Translated by John Keliy. 



A REST here have I never, 
A guest on earth am I, 
Heav'n wilt be mine forever, 
My Fatherland's on high. 






A 



4IO HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Here up and down I'm driven ; 

In rest eternal there, 
God's gift of grace is given 

That endeth toil and care. 

What hath my whole life ever 

From youth been to this hour, 
But labor ceasing never, 

As long as I have pow'r 
To tell of; days of anguish 

I've past, and oft the night 
In sorrow did I languish 

Until the morning light. 

And on the ways I've wander'd 

What storms have terrified, 
It blew, rain'd, lighten'd, thunder'd, 

Fear was on every side. 
Hate, envy, opposition 

Rag'd, undeserv'd by me, 
This was the sad condition 

I must bear patiently. 

So liv'd the honor'd fathers 

In whose footsteps we tread, 
From whom the saint oft gathers 

The wisdom he may need. 
Of trial what full measure 

Had father Abraham, 
Ere he attain'd his pleasure, 

To his right dwelling came. 



^ 






^$&f 





THE REST OF HEAVEN. 41I 

How rough too and uneven 

The way that Isaac trod, 
And Jacob, who had striven 

And had prevail'd with God ; 
What bitter grief and wearing 

Felt he, what woe and smart ; 
In fear and in despairing 

Oft sank his fainting heart. 

The holy souls and blessed 

Went forward on their race, 
They chang'd with hearts distressed 

Their wonted dwelling-place : 
They hither went and thither, 

Great crosses bore each day, 
Till death came to deliver, 

Them in the grave to lay. 

In patience am I giving 

Myself to just such woe ? | 

Could I be better living 

Than such have liv'd below? 
Here must we suffer ever, 

Here must we upwards strive ; 
Who fights not well shall never 

In joy eternal live. 

While on the earth I'm staying, 

My life shall thus be spent, 
I would not be delaying 

For aye in this strange tent. 





-^. 



412 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Along the paths I wander 
That lead me to my home, 

God boundless comfort yonder 
Will give me when I come. 

My home is high above me, 

Where angel hosts for aye 
Praise Him whose heart doth love me, 

Who ruleth all each day, 
Who aye preserves and beareth 

All in His hand of might, 
Who orders and prepareth 

What good seems in His sight. 

For home my tir'd heart yearneth, 

I'd gladly thither go, 
From earth away it turneth 

From all I've here pass'd through. 
The longer here I'm staying 

I less of pleasure taste, 
My spirit's thirst allaying, 

The world's an arid waste. 

The dwelling is unholy, 

The trouble is too great. 
Why com'st Thou, Lord, so slowly 

To free me from this state? 
Come, make a happy ending 

Of all my wanderings, 
Relief by Thy pow'r sending, 

From all my sufferings. 







jfc 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 413 

Where I've s"o long remained 

Is not my proper home ; 
When my life's end is gained, 

Then forth from it I'll come, 
What here I've needed ever 

I'll put it all away ; 
When soul and body sever, 

Me in the grave they'll lay. 

Thou, who my Joy art ever, 

And of my life the Light, 
When death life's thread doth sever, 

Bring'st me to heav'n so bright, 
To mansions everlasting, 

Where I shall ever shine, 
E'en as the sun, while tasting 

Of pleasures all divine. 

There I'll be ever living 

Not merely as a guest, 
With those who crowns receiving 

From Thee are ever bless'd ; 
I'll celebrate in glory 

Thine ev'ry mighty deed, 
My portion have before Thee, 

From every evil freed. 







$tg. 




414 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



LET ME HASTE TO JOIN THY BLISS. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



OSAFE at home, where the dark tempter roams 
not, 
How I have envied thy far happier lot ! 
Already resting where the evil comes not, 
The tear, the toil, the woe, the sin forgot. 

O safe in port, where the rough billow breaks not, 
Where the wild sea-moan saddens thee no more; 

Where the remorseless stroke of tempest shakes not ; — 
W T hen, when shall I too gain that tranquil shore? 

O bright, amid the brightness all eternal, 

When shall I breathe with thee the purer air? — 

Air of a land whose clime is ever vernal, 
A land without a serpent or a snare. 

Away, above the scenes of guilt and folly, 
Beyond this desert's heat and dreariness, 

Safe in the city of the ever-holy, 

Let me make haste to join thy earlier bliss. 

Another battle fought, and oh, not lost — 
Tells of the ending of this fight and thrall, 

Another ridge of time's lone moorland crossed, 
Gives nearer prospect of the jasper wall. 






■-)gjjg- 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 415 

Just gone within the veil, where I shall follow, 
Not far before me, hardly out of sight — 

I down beneath thee in this cloudy hollow, 
And thou far up on yonder sunny height. 

Gone to begin a new and happier story, 

Thy bitterer tale of earth now told and done ; 

These outer shadows for that inner glory 
Exchanged for ever. — O thrice blessed one ! 

O freed from fetters of this lonesome prison, 
How I shall greet thee in that day of days, 

When He who died, yea rather who is risen, 

Shall these frail frames from dust and darkness raise. 



HARK! ANGELIC SONGS ARE SWELLING. 



Frederick William Faber. 



H 



ARK ! hark ! my soul ! angelic songs are swell- 



O'er earth's green fields and ocean's wave-beat shore, 
How sweet the truth those blessed strains are telling, 
Of that new life, when sin shall be no more. 

Darker than night life's shadows fall around us, 
And like benighted men we miss our mark: 
God hides Himself, and grace has scarcely found us, 
Ere death finds out his victims in the dark. 






A 



416 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Onward we go, for still we hear them singing, 
" Come, weary souls, for Jesus bids you come," 
And through the dark, its echoes swe'etly ringing, 
The music of the Gospel leads us home. 

Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing, 
The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea, 
And laden souls by thousands meekly stealing, 
Kind Shepherd, turn their weary steps to Thee. 

Rest comes at last, though life be long and dreary, 
The day must dawn, and darksome night be past, 
All journeys end in welcomes to the weary, 
And heaven, the heart's true home, will come at last. 



OH, WHAT A MIGHTY CHANGE. 



Charles Wesley. 



OH, what a mighty change 
Shall Jesus' sufferers know! 
While o'er the happy plains we range, 

Incapable of woe. 
No ill-requited love 

Shall there our spirits wound ; 
No base ingratitude above, 
No sin in heaven is found. 

Nor slightest touch of pain, 

Nor sorrow's least alloy-, 
Can violate our rest, or stain 

Our purity of joy. 





yfty 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 417 

In that eternal day- 
No clouds nor tempests rise : 

There gushing tears are wiped away 
Forever from our eyes. 

This languishing desire 

Which now for heaven we feel 
Shall there delightfully expire 

In joy ineffable. 
The weight of glorious bliss 

That to our share shall fall, 
Not angel-tongue can half express ; 

But we shall have it all. 



IN THE CHRISTIAN'S HOME IN GLORY 



For we which have believed do enter into rest. 



IN the Christian's home in glory, 
There remains a land of rest : 
There my Saviour's gone before me, 
To fulfil my soul's request. 

There is rest for the weary, 
There is rest for the weary. 
On the other side of Jordan, 
In the sweet fields of Eden, 
Where the tree of life is blooming, 
There is rest for you. 
27 






-^M-. 




418 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

He is fitting up my mansion, 
Which eternally shall stand ; 

For my stay shall not be transient 
In that holy, happy land. 
There is rest, etc. 

Death itself shall then be vanquished, 
And his sting<shall be withdrawn. 

Shout for gladness, O ye ransomed ! 

Hail with joy the rising morn ! 

There is rest, etc. 

Sing, oh, sing, ye heirs of glory ! 

Shout your triumphs as you go : 
Zion's gates will open for you ; 

You shall find an entrance through. 
There is rest, etc. 



THERE IS AN HOUR OF HALLOWED PEACE. 



William B. Tappan. 



THERE is an hour of hallowed peace 
For those with cares oppressed, 
When sighs and sorrowing tears shall cease, 
And all be hushed to rest. 

'Tis then the soul is freed from fears 

And doubts that here annoy : 
Then they that oft have sown in tears 

Shall reap again in joy. 





gjll 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 419 

There is a home of sweet repose, 

Where storms assail no more : 
The stream of endless pleasure flows 

On that celestial shore. 

There smiling peace with love appears, 

And bliss without alloy ; 
There they that once have sown in tears 

Now reap eternal joy. 



WHEN I CAN READ MY TITLE CLEAR. 



Isaac Watts. 



WHEN I can read my title clear 
To mansions in the skies, 
I'll bid farewell to every fear, 
And wipe my weeping eyes. 

Should earth against my soul engage, 
And hellish darts be hurled, 

Then I can smile at Satan's rage, 
And face a frowning world. 

Let cares like a wild deluge come, 

And storms of sorrow fall ; 
May I but safely reach my home, 

My God, my heaven, my all. 

There shall I bathe my weary soul 

In seas of heavenly rest, 
And not a wave of trouble roll 

Across my peaceful breast. 






jte 




420 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



REST FOR THE TOILING HAND. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



REST for the toiling hand, 
Rest for the anxious brow, 
Rest for the weary, way-worn feet, 
Rest from all labor now. 

Rest for the fevered brain, 

Rest for the throbbing eye : 
Through these parched lips of thine, no more 

Shall pass the moan or sigh. 

Soon shall the trump of God 

Give out the welcome sound 
That shakes thy silent chamber-walls, 

And breaks the turf-sealed ground. 

Ye dwellers in the dust, 

Awake ! come forth and sing ! 
Sharp has your frost of winter been, 

But bright shall be your spring. 

'Twas sown in weakness here ; 

'Twill then be raised in power: 
That which was sown an earthly seed 

Shall rise a heavenly flower. 





4te 



THE REST OF HEAVEN. 42 1 



THRO' LIFE, THRO' DEATH, TO HIS ETER- 
NAL REST. 



Anonymous. 



YES ! there is rest above ! Heaven's light is pour- 
ing 
Strength thro' the frame, and brightness on the eye, 
And the glad heart, the enfranchised soul, is soaring 
In res: and rapture only known on high. 

The rest of heaven ! O ! trembling, fainting spirit ! 

Chained to the earth by weariness and wo ! 
Look up ! Think of the rest thou shalt inherit ! 

Think of the glory thou art soon to know ! 

Look up, believer! Lo ! a rest remaineth ! 

Dark tho' thy way may be, it leads thee home ! 
There He, who bore the cross, in glory reigneth ! 

He, who like thee, once knew earth's grief and 
gloom. 

Cheer thee ! His love is o'er thy life presiding, 
He soothes thy spirit when by care oppressed, 

And He thy weary steps is safely guiding 
Thro' life, thro' death, to His eternal rest. 







m 




422 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



O HAD I THE WINGS OF A DOVE. 



Henry Francis Lyte. 



OH, had I, my Saviour, the wings of a dove, 
How soon would I soar to thy presence above ! 
How soon would I flee where the weary have rest, 
And hide all my cares in thy sheltering breast ! 

Ah ! there the wild tempest forever shall cease : 
No billow shall ruffle that haven of peace. 
Temptation and trouble alike shall depart, — 
All tears from the eye, and all sin from the heart. 

Soon, soon, may this Eden of promise be mine! 
Rise, bright Sun of glory, no more to decline! 
Thy light, yet unrisen, the wilderness cheers: 
Oh ! what will it be when the fulness appears? 



THE SABBATH OF THY LOVE. 



Charles Wesley. 



LORD, I believe a rest remains, 
To all thy people known ; 
A rest where pure enjoyment reigns, 
And Thou art loved alone ; — 






-lH 



£ 



THE REST OF HEAVEN. 423 

A rest where all our souls' desire 

Is fixed on things above; 
Where fear and sin and grief expire, 

Cast out by perfect love. 

Oh that I now the rest might know, 

Believe and enter in ! 
Now, Saviour ! now the power bestow, 

And let me cease from sin. 

Remove the hardness of my heart, 

The unbelief remove ; 
To me the rest of faith impart — 

The Sabbath of Thy love. 



OH COULD OUR THOUGHTS AND WISHES 

FLY. 



Anne Steele. 



OH ! could our thoughts and wishes fly, 
Above these gloomy shades, 
To those bright worlds beyond the sky, 
Which sorrow ne'er invades ! 

There joys unseen by mortal eyes, 

Or reason's feeble ray, 
In ever-blooming prospect rise, 

Unconscious of decay. 

Lord ! send a beam of light divine 

To guide our upward aim ; 
With one reviving touch of Thine 

Our languid hearts inflame. 





jfr 




424 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



Then shall, on faith's sublimest wing, 

Our a dent wishes rise 
To those bright scenes where pleasures spring 

Immortal in the skies. 



BUILD THY NEST HIGHER. 



Gerald Massey. 



I BUILT my nest by a pleasant stream, 
That glided on with a smile in its gleam, 
Bringing me gold that was sumless ; 
Ah me ! but the floods came drowning one day, 
And swept my nest with its wealth away ; 
I in the world was homeless ! 

I built my nest in a gay green tree, 
And the summer of life went merrily 

With us! we were birds of a feather! 
But the leaves soon fell, and my pretty ones flew, 
And through my nest the bitter winds blew ; 

'Twas bare in the wildest weather. 

I built my nest under heaven's high eaves ; 
No rising of floods, no falling of leaves, 

Can mock my heart's endeavor ; 
Waters may wash, and breezes may blow, 
In the bosom of Rest I shall smile, I shall know 

My nest is safe forever. 







^ 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 425 



REST WEARY SOUL, THE PENALTY IS 
BORNE. 



Anonymous. 



REST, weary soul, 
The penalty is borne, the ransom paid, 
For all thy sins full satisfaction made ; 
Strive not thyself to do what Christ has done ; 
Take the free gift, and make the joys thine own ; 
No more by pangs of guilt and fear to sin distressed, 
Rest, sweetly rest. 

Rest, weary heart, 
From all thy silent griefs and secret pain, 
Thy profitless regrets and longings vain ; 
Wisdom and love have ordered all the past ; 
All shall be light and blessedness at last ; 
Cast off the cares that have so long oppressed, — 

Rest, sweetly rest. 

Rest, weary head ; 
Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb ; 
Light from above has broken through its gloom ; 
Here, in the place where once thy SaviGur lay, 
Where He shall wake thee on a future day, — 
Like a tired child upon its mother's breast, 

Rest, sweetly rest. 







jii. 




426 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

0i 

Rest, spirit free, 
In the green pasture of the heavenly shore, 
Where sin and sorrow can approach no more ; 
With all the flock by the Good Shepherd fed, 
Beside the streams of life eternal led, 
Forever with thy God and Saviour blest, 

Rest, sweetlv rest. 



THE GOLDEN STREET. 



William O. Stoddard. 



THE toil is very long and I am tired : 
Oh, Father, I am weary of the way ! 
Give me that rest I have so long desired ; 

Bring me that Sabbath's cool refreshing day, 
And let the fever of my world-worn feet 
Press the cool smoothness of the golden street. 

Tired — very tired ! And I at times have seen, 
When the far pearly gates were open thrown 

For those who walked no more with me, the green 
Sweet foliage of the trees that there alone 

At last wave over those whose world-worn feet 

Press the cool smoothness of the golden street. 

When the gates open and before they close — 
Sad hours but holy — I have watched the tide 

Whose living crystal there forever flows 
Before the throne, and sadly have I sighed 

To think how long until my world-worn feet 

Press the cool smoothness of the golden street. 






jis 




THE REST OF HEAVEN. 427 

They shall not wander from that blessed way ; 

Nor heat, nor cold, nor weariness, nor sin, 
Nor any clouds in that eternal day, 

Trouble them more who once have entered in ; 
But all is rest to them whose world-worn feet 
Press the cool smoothness of the golden street. 

Thus the gates close and I behold no more, 
Though as I walk, they open.oftener now 

For those who leave me and go on before ; 
And I am lonely also while I bow 

And think of those dear souls whose world-worn feet 

Press the cool smoothness of the golden street. 

Tired — very tired ! — but I will patient be, 

Nor will I murmur at the weary way : 
I too shall walk beside the crystal sea, 

And pluck the ripe fruit all that God-lit day, 
When Thou, O Lord, shall let my feet 
Press the cool smoothness of the golden street. 



A LITTLE WHILE THE VIGIL KEEPING. 



Jane Crewdson. 



OFOR the peace which floweth as a river, 
Making life's desert places bloom and smile ! 
O for the faith to grasp heaven's bright " forever" 
Amid the shadows of earth's " little while ! " 

A little while for patient vigil-keeping, 
To face the stern, to battle with the strong ; 
A little while to sow the seed with weeping, 
Then bind the sheaves and sing the harvest song. 





-iti. 



428 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

A little while to mar the weeds of sadness, 
To pace with weary steps through noisy ways ; 
Then to pour forth the fragrant oil of gladness, 
And clasp the girdle round the robe of praise. 

A little while midst shadow and delusion 

To strive by faith love's mysteries to spell : 

Then read each dark enigma's bright solution, 

Then hail sight's verdic't — " He doeth all things well.'' 

A little while the earthen pitcher taking, 
To wayside brooks from far off fountains fed ; 
Then the cool lip its thirst forever slaking 
Beside the fulness of the fountain-head. 

A little while to keep the oil from failing, 

A little while faith's flickering lamp to trim 

And then, the Bridegroom's coming footsteps hailing, 

To haste to meet him. with the bridal-hymn. 

And he who is himself the Gift and Giver — ■ 
The future glory and the present smile, 
With the bright promise of the glad forever 
Will light the shadows of the u little while." 







A. 





c£ss* 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 



They desire a better country, that is a heavenly. — Heb. n : 16. 

We rejoice in hope of the glory of God. — Rom. 5 : 2. 

Nevertheless we, according to his promise, look for new heavens and a new 
earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. — 2 Peter 3 : 13. 

Oh that I had wings like a dove ! for then would I fly away and be at rest. — 
Psa. 55 ; 6. 









ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 



O, TO BE THERE ! 



O 



From the Dutch. 

TO be there, 

Where never tears of sorrow 



Shall dim the eye, nor aching pain nor care 
Shall overcloud our morrow ! 
O, to be there ! 

O, lovely home ! 
Thy fragrant, thornless flowers 
Droop not nor die, but everlasting bloom 
Crowns all thy golden hours : 
O, lovely home ! 

O, let me go ! 
Death shall not there dissever 
Our loving hearts. Rivers of pleasure flow 
At God's right hand forever : 

O, let me go! 

For Thou art there, 
Who unto me hast given 
Eternal life, making me pure and fair ; 
And this to me is heaven, 
For Thou art there. 








432 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



CLEAR FOUNT OF LIGHT, MY NATIVE 
LAND. 



From the Spanish of Francesco de Aldana. Translated by Longfellow. 



CLEAR fount of light ! my native land on high, 
Bright with a glory that shall never fade ! 
Mansion of truth ! without a veil or shade, 
Thy holy quiet meets the spirit's eye. 
There dwells the soul in its ethereal essence, 
Gasping no longer for life's feeble breath ; 
But, sentinelled in heaven, its glorious presence 
With pitying eye beholds, yet fears not, death. 
Beloved Country! banished from thy shore, 
A stranger in this prison house of clay, 
The exiled spirit weeps and sighs for thee ! 
Heavenward the bright perfections I adore 
Direct, and the sure promise cheers the way, 
That, whither love aspires, there shall my dwelling be. 



OH HAD I WINGS LIKE YONDER BIRD! 



Weir. 



OH had I wings like yonder bird 
That soars above its downy nest, 
I'd fly away unseen, unheard, 

Where I might be for aye at rest. 






ygg 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 433 

Oh, I would fly and be at rest ! 

Far, far beyond each glittering sphere 
That hangs upon the azure breast 

Of all we know of Heaven here. 

And there I'd rest, amidst the joys 

Angelic lips alone can tell ; 
Where bloom the bowers of Paradise, 

Where songs in sweetest transports swell. 



DEAR SAVIOUR, OUR HEARTS BURN 
WITHIN. 



[This is a popular hymn, sung- often in Germany by the whole congregation, as 
they leave the church at the close of Divine service. The melody is our own 
" Home, Sweet Home," with some modifications.] 



O WHERE shall the soul find her rest and her 
home ? 
Whose wings will protect her? How long must she 

roam? 
Does not the world offer one city of peace, 
One spot free from sin, where our labors may cease? 
No, No, No, No ! Far out of sight, 
Beyond is our home, in the kingdom of light. 

We'll leave, then, the world in its darkness behind, 
And walk in the light, if our home we may find ; 
The great New Jerusalem, God has prepared, 
His Word has been given — His counsel declared. 
Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes ! Yonder must be 
Those mansions made ready for you and for me. 
28 






ifi 




434 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Dear Saviour, our hearts burn within, and we long 
To join the angels' victorious song. 
Hallelujah to Him who hath bought us ! they cry — 
The Lamb who hath loved us, who reigneth on high ! 
Wait, Wait, Wait, Wait ! Soon shall we hear 
The voice of the Master who bids us appear. 

Then courage, our souls ! for the warfare is short, 

Our armor is strong, and secure is our Fort ; 

And when we have triumphed, and each has his crown, 

At the feet of the Lord we will cast them all down. 

Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy! -Safe home at last — 

The battle is over — the peril is past. 



GIVE ME NOW MY LYRE. 



Composed upon Milton in his old age, by Elizabeth Lloyd. 



O MERCIFUL One, 
When men are farthest, then Thou art most 
near ; 
When friends pass by, my weakness to shun, 
Thy chariot I hear. 

Thy glorious face 
Is leaning toward me — and its holy light 
Shines in upon my lonely dwelling-place, 

And there is no more night. 

O ! I seem to stand 
Trembling where foot of mortal ne'er hath been, 
Wrapped in the radiance of Thy sinless land, 

Which eye hath never seen. 





m 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 435 

Visions come and go — 
Shapes of resplendent beauty round me throng — 
From angel lips I seem to hear the flow 

Of soft and holy song. 

It is nothing now, 
When heaven is ripening on my sightless eye, 
When airs from Paradise refresh my brow, 

That earth in darkness lies. 

In a purer clime 
My being fills with rapture — waves of thought 
Roll in upon my spirit — strains sublime 

Break over me unsought. 

Give me now my lyre ; 
I feel the stirrings of a gift divine ; 
Within my bosom glows unearthly fire, 

Lit by no skill of mine. 



CHRIST, LET ME COME TO THEE. 



Mary M. Graves. 



CHRIST, let me come to Thee ! 
Behind me roars the angry ocean tide ; 
Each crested wave comes nearer, nearer still ; 
The muttered thunders in the billows hide, 
I shudder at their hoarse, loud voice, so chill, 





2&. 




436 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I cannot meet the fierce, wild storm of Life ! 

I have no strength to battle with it more ! 
Too long I've wrestled in the painful strife, 

I must lay down the burden that I bore. 
Sweet Christ, O may I come ? 

Christ, let me come to Thee ! 
In dreams I hear Thy white-robed angels sing 

The golden glories of their beauteous land ; 
I hear the rustle of each snowy wing, 

And feel their touch upon my fevered hand. 
Colder than ever seems the earth to me, 
. When I awake and see them flit away ; 
I strain my eyes, the last bright glimpse to see, 

And watch them vanish through the gates of day. 
Sweet Christ, O may I come ? 

Christ, let me come to Thee ! 
I watch my toiling breath grow faint and slow ; 

I note the hectic deepening, day by day, 
And feel my life is like a wreath of snow, 

Which one kind breath of heaven would melt away ! 
A little longer in this world of vice — 

The wished-for boundary is almost passed — 
I see the shining shore of Paradise, 

I know my pain is almost o'er at last. 
Sweet Chirst, O let me come ! 

Christ, let me come to Thee ! 
I've seen the gates that guard Thy holy clime ! 

And often caught a gleam of Thee within ; 
I know they'll open in Thine own good time, 

And let Thy weary, wandering child come in. 





jte 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 437 

I've had through all this weary care and pain 

One blessed hope that ne'er has known despair — 

It cheers me like the sunshine after rain ! 

I know Thou'lt hear my deep and heartfelt prayer, 
And let me come to Thee ! 



COME, LORD, MY HEART IS SICK. 



George Herbert. 

COME, Lord, my head doth burn, my heart is sick 
While Thou dost ever, ever stay: 
Thy long deferrings wound me to the quick, 
My spirit gaspeth night and day. 

O show Thyself to me, 
Or take me up to Thee ! 

How canst Thou stay, considering the pace 

The blood did make, which Thou didst waste ? 
When I beheld it trickling down Thy face, 
I never saw thing make such haste. 
O show Thyself to me, 
Or take me up to Thee ! 

Yet if Thou stayest still, why must I stay? s 

My God, what is this world to me ? 
This world of woe ? hence, all ye clouds away, 
Away ; I must get up and see. 

O show Thyself to me, 
Or take me up to Thee ! 




A 



Jfg. 




438 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Oh, loose this frame, this knot of man untie ! 

That my free soul may use her wing 
Which now is pinioned with mortalitie, 
As an entangled, hampered thing. 

O show Thyself to me, 
Or take me up to Thee ! 

What have I left that I should stay and grone ? 

The most of me to heaven is fled : 
My thoughts and joys are all packt up and gone, 
And for their old acquaintance plead. 
O show Thyself to me, 
Or take me up to Thee ! 

Come, dearest Lord, passe not this holy season, 

My flesh and bones and joints do play : 
And even my verse, when by the rhyme and reason 
The word is Stay y says ever, Come. 
O show Thyself to me, 
Or take me up to Thee ! 



ME TO ZION TAKE IN PITY. 



From the Latin. By Thomas H. Chivres. 



SAVE me, Lord ! thou Judge Eternal ! 
From those dark domains infernal ; 
Where is weeping, where is wailin; 
Where all prayers are unavailing ! 
Where each soul doth self-inherit 
Proofs of its own damned demerit ; 



! 






4& 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 439 

Tortures reaping — ever crying, 
From the worm that is undying ; 
Where no hope can come to sever 
Life from death, in hell forever ! 

Me to Zion take in pity ! 
David's Zion — tranquil city! 
Built by God, of light — its portal 
Cross of Christ, the wood immortal ; 
Key that locks, the tongue of Peter, 
Turned, the songs of God's not sweeter; 
Walled, heaven high, each scaleless story 
Guarded by the King of Glory ! 

In this city, light eternal 
Reigns forever — peace supernal ; 
Odors flow in such completeness, 
Heaven is filled with songs of sweetness 

Here, the soul knows no corruption, 
Frailty none, nor interruption ; 
None too little, none dilated, 
All in Christ are consummated. 

Heavenly city! glorious city! 
Built upon the rock of Pity ! 
City in whose Gates are gathered 
All I long for —all I fathered !, 
Now I greet thee — thee I sigh for!- 
Whose possession I would die for ! 





jte 



440 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

With what warm congratulations 
Meet in thee the joyful Nations ! 
How delighted stand they gazing 
At the walls with glory blazing ; 
Hyacinth with Chalcedony — 
Heaven's own wealth their patrimony ! 

In this city's streets, for greeting, 
Clouds of blessed souls are meeting; 
Singing songs such as the pious 
Moses sang for 'rapt Elias. 



I WOULD GO HOME. 



From the German. 



" Ich mochte Heim ; mich zieht's dem Vaterhouse." 

I WOULD go home ! Fain to my Father's house, 
Fain to my Father's heart ! 
Far from the world's uproar, and hollow vows, 

To silent peace, apart. 
With thousand hopes in life's gay dawn I ranged, 
Now homeward wend with chastened heart, and 
changed ; 
Still to my soul one gleam of hope is come, 
I would go home ! 

I would go home, vexed with thy sharp annoy ; 

Thou weary world and waste 
I would go home, disrelishing thy poor joy ; 

Let those that love thee, taste ! 






ffi^ 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 44 1 

Since my God wills it, I my cross would bear, 
Would bravely all the appointed " hardness" share ; 

But still my bosom sighs, where'er I roam. 

For home, sweet home. 

I would go home ! My happiest dreams have been 

Of that dear Fatherland ! 
My lot may be there ; in heaven's all cloudless scene, 

Here, flits mirage or sand ! 
Bright summer gone, the darting swallows spread 
Their wings from all our vales revisited, 

Soft twittering, as the fowler's wiles they flee. 

Home, home for me ! 

I would be home! They gave my infancy 

Gay pastime, luscious feast ; 
One little hour I shared the childish glee, 

But soon my mirth had ceased ; 
While still my playmates' eyes with pleasure shone, 
And but more sparkled as the sport went on : 

Spite of sweet fruits and golden honey-comb, 

I sighed for home. 

I would be home ! To shelter steers the vessel ; 

The rivulet seeks the sea ; 
The nursling in its mother's arms will nestle ; 

Like them I long to flee ! 
In joy, in grief, have I tuned many a lay ; 
Griefs, joys like harp-notes, have now died away. 

One hope yet lives! To heaven's paternal dome, 

Ah ! take me home ! 





A. 



4^ 



442 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



HOW LONG, O LORD, HOW LONG? 



Helen L. Pahmlee. 



HINDER me not ! — the path is long and dreary, 
I may not pause, nor tarry by the way — 
Night cometh, where no man may journey onward, 
For we must walk as " children of the day." 

I know the city lieth far behind me, 

The very brightest gem in all the plain ; — 

But thick and fast the lurid clouds are rising, 
Which soon shall scatter into fiery rain. 

I know not if the wave shall rage or slumber, 
When I shall stand upon the nearer shore ; 

But One, whose form the Son of God resembleth, 
Will cross with me, and I shall ask no more ! 

O weary heads ! rest on your Saviour's bosom, 
O weary feet ! press on the path He trod, 

O weary souls ! your rest shall be remaining, 
When ye have gained the City of your God ! 

O glorious City ! jasper-built, and shining 
With God's own glory in effulgent light, 

Wherein no manner of defilement cometh, 
Nor any shadow flung from passing night. 







■^. 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 443 

There, shall ye find your dead in Christ, arisen, 
And learn from them to sing the angel's song ; 

Well may ye echo, from earth's waiting prison, 

The martyrs cry : " How long, O Lord ! how long ! " 



NOW LORD LET ME GO! 



Domine Nunc, Dimitte " : a prayer of Jerome on his death-bed. By T. B. 



NOW Lord let me go !— I 
Am ready to be offered ; my 
Departure is at hand. Well sown 
Are all my tears. They shall come up 
In joy. A few more times to sup 
The ashen crust, the wormwood cup 
With Jesus here, and at His own 
Sweet table in His Father's House 
With Him I lie, and lean these brows, 
Shrunk with habitual pain, upon 
His brother bosom. I have done 
The work He gave me. 

Life's brief part 
Is acted with me, but the scene 
That closes it shall be serene, 
•I know, for that strange light that turns 
Old men to prophets surely burns 
This hour within me : Ay, it cheers 
Me with the vision of far years 
Full of reward and glory. Look! 
I see the sequel of the Book 






jfg : 




444 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And of my toils ! The Lion hath broke 
The seven seals, and lo, its strong, 
Diffusive, living words outflow 
Like liberated light, and glow 
From zone to zone ! To numerous song 
The nations wake, while the swift hands 
Of iron scribes obedient ply 
Their elemental strength to fly 
Christ's message and replenish the land 
With truth— till " Holiness to God " 
Upon all popular wealth writ broad 
And bold in Roman lines, repeats 
Assurance of millennium. 

" Come ! " 
I hear my Father say ! From home 
The sight and savor of His meats 
Reaches me here. I soon shall test 
The pleasures of domestic rest. 



So I my sunset hour devote 

To praise and heavenly peace. No note 

Of restless contradiction more 

Shall beat my calm thought from the shore 

Of that good land where Jesus dwells, 

And water from Salvation's wells 

Runs gladness. 







ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 445 



O TAKE ME TO HIS FEET! 



From the Presbyterian. 



" Where Christ is, there is heaven."— Chrysostom. 

WHEN shall my soul repose, 
All pure and glorious, on my Saviour's breast, 
As 'neath morn's opening eye, the full-blown rose 
Gives the lone dew-drop rest ? 

Ne'er can I rest, nor feel 
My soul at home, till Him in heaven I find, 
And heavenly glory in my heart anneal 

The graces there enshrined. 

Sick with this fervent love, 
How turns the spirit from all earthly things, 
And longs to sink away a pearl above 

In heaven's pellucid springs ; 

Lost as a radiant gem 
In Jesus' heart, the depths of love divine ; 
My soul impearled in bliss, His diadem 

Its sainted, glorious shrine. 

O take me to His feet — 
There let me bathe with tears and kiss the wound 
Borne on the cross, and glad my love repeat 

To angels listening round. 







-iti. 



446 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

How can the richest tone, 
That e'er from angel lips or harp distilled, 
Entrance the heart that Jesus' love has known, 

And with His voice been thrilled ? 

No, not the streets of gold, 
Nor gates of pearl, nor Salem's silvery dome, 
Nor scenes on Zion's heavenly fields unrolled — 

These, these are not my home. 

My disembodied soul, 
Ye kindred angels, take to Jesus' breast ; 
There, dove-like, seeks my heart its final goal, 

There only longs to rest. 



TEACH ME THAT NEW SONG. 



Anonymous. 



ARISE, my soul, arise, 
Unfold thy heaven-born wings ; 
Thy home is in the skies, 
Where lofty Gabriel sings ; 
And loud, through all the spacious plain, 
Is heard — " The Lamb, the Lamb was slain ! 

Oh, may my bosom glow 
With melody like this ! 
Oh, may my spirit bow, 

When musing on their bliss ! 
Ah! didst Thou die, dear Lamb, for me? 
He bled — He groan'd — He died for thee. 






j& 



ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 




447 



Oh, teach me that new song 

Which occupies their time ; 
And say, will it be long 

Ere I shall reach that clime ? 
I'll wait till Thou shalt call me home 
Yet come, Lord Jesus, quickly come. 



I RISE TO SEEK THE LIGHT.' 



I SAW a little blade of grass, 
Just peeping from the sod, 
And asked it why it sought to pass 

Beyond its parent clod ? 
It seemed to raise its timid head, 
All sparkling, fresh, and bright, 
And wondering at the question, said, 
" I rise to seek the light." 

I asked the eagle why his wing 

To ceaseless flight was given, 
As if he spurned each earthly thing, 

And knew no home but heaven ? 
He answered, as he fixed his gaze, 

Undazzled at the sight, 
Upon the sun's meridian blaze, 

" I rise to seek the light." 

I asked my soul, What means this thirst 

For something yet beyond, 
What means this eagerness to burst 

From every earthly bond ? 







jgj£ 




448 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

It answers, and I feel it glow 

With fires more warm, more bright, 

" All is too dull, too dark below, 
/ rise to seek the Light." 



WHY TARRIEST THOU, EXPECTED DAY? 



From a Latin hymn of Coffin. 



OGOD, who far from mortal sight 
Dwellest in unapproached light ; 
Before whom saints with trembling, bow, 
And angels stand with veiled brow, 

Behold us now — we sink in gloom, 
And darkness as a shadowy tomb 
Surrounds us — may the eternal day 
Arising, chase these clouds away ! 

The eternal day ! Thou dost design 
For us such day of light divine, 
Such glory, as our burning sun 
Would shrink and pale to look upon. 

Why tarriest thou, expected day ? 
Our fainting spirits mourn thy stay : 
We fain would leave this heavy load 
Of clay, and upward spring to God. 







N^ 



.^ 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 449 

O bliss ! to burst from every thrall, 
And soar to Thee, our God, our all ; 
To see Thy glory, face to face, 
Unceasingly to love and praise ! 

Thou grace-imparting Trinity, 
Fit us for such bright destiny ; 
And grant that life's receding ray 
May usher in eternal day ! 



MORARIS HEU! NIMIS DIU. 



[It may interest classical readers to see the beautiful original of the above hymn, 
which is also given.] 



OLUCE, qui mortalibus 
Lates inaccessa, Deus ; 
Praesente quo sancti tremunt 
Nubuntque vultus Angeli •: 

Hie, ceu profunda conditi 
Demergimur caligine, 
./Eternus at noctem suo 
Fulgore depellet dies. 

Hunc nempe nobis praeparas, 
Nobis reservas hunc diem, 
Quern vix adumbrat splendida 
Flammantis astri claritas. 

Moraris heu ! nimis diu, 
Moraris, optatus dies : 
Ut te fruamur noxii 
Linquenda moles corporis. 





A 




450 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

His cum soluta vinculis 
Mens evolarit, Deus ; 
Videre te, laudare te, 
Amare te non desinet. 

Ad omne nos apta bonum, 
Fcecunda donis Trinitas ; 
Fac lucis usurae brevi 
.Eterna succedat dies. 



I'M WEARY, WEARY, LET ME GO. 



Ray Palmer. 



I'm weary— I'm weary — let me go home." [The dying words of the great 
Neander.] 



I'M weary — weary — let rne go ! 
For now the pulse of life declineth, 
My spirit chides its lingering flow, 
For her immortal life she pineth. 

I feel the chill night-shadows fall ; — 

The sleep steals on, that knows no waking 

Yet well I hear blest voices call, 

And bright above the day is breaking ! 

Not now the purple and the gold 
Of trailing clouds at sunset glowing, 

These dim and fading eyes behold ; 

But splendors from the Godhead flowing ! 







& 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 45 1 

"lis not the crimson orient beam, 

O'er mountain-tops, in beauty glancing ; 

Light from the Throne ! a flooding stream ! 
'Tis the eternal Sun advancing. 

As oft, when waked the summer morn, 

Sweet breath of flowers the breezes bore, me, 

In this serener, fairer dawn, 

Perfumes from Paradise float o'er me. 

As when, by sultry heats oppressed, 

Pve sought still shades, cool waters keeping, 

So long I for that holier rest, 

Where Heaven's own living streams are sweeping. 

The joy of life hath been to stand 

With spirits noble, true, confiding. 
Oh, joy unthought, to reach the band 

Of spotless souls, with God abiding ! 

Ye loved of earth ! this fond farewell 

That now divides us, cannot sever ; 
Swift-flying years their round shall tell, 

And our glad souls be one forever ! 

On the far-off celestial hills 

I see the tranquil sunshine lying — 
And God Himself my spirit fills 

With perfect peace — and this is dying ! 

Methinks I hear the rustling wings 

Of unseen messengers descending ; 
And notes, from softly trembling strings, 

With myriad voices softly blending. 







_^ 




452 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O Thou, my Lord adored! this soul 

Oft, oft its warm desires hath told Thee ! 

Now, wearily the moments roll, 

Until these longing eyes behold Thee ! 

Ah, stay my spirit here no more, 

That for her home so fondly yearneth ; — • 

There, joy's bright cup is running o'er — 
There, love's pure flame forever burneth ! 



THE BEAUTY OF MY NATIVE LAND. 



From the Latin of Casimer, by Isaac Watts. 



THE beauty of my native land 
Immortal love inspires ; 

I burn, I burn with strong desires, 
And sigh, and wait the high command. 
There glides the moon her shining way, 
And soothes my heart with silvery ray ; 

Upward, that heart aspires. 
A thousand lamps of golden light, 
Hung high in vaulted azure, charm my sight, 
And wink and beckon with their loving fires. 
O ye fair glories of my heavenly home, 
Bright sentinels, who guard my Father's court, 

Where all the happy minds resort, 
When will my Father's chariot come ? 
Must ye forever walk the ethereal round, 

Forever see the mourner lie 

An exile from the sky, 

A prisoner of the ground ? 






$& 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 453 

Descend, some shining servants from on high, 

Build me a hasty tomb ; — 
A grassy turf will raise my head, 
The neighboring lilies dress my bed, 

And shed a cheap perfume. 
Here I put off the chains of death 

My soul too long has worn ; 
Friends, I forbid one groaning breath 

Or tear to wet my urn ; 
Angels, behold me all undressed ; 
Here gently lay this flesh to rest ; 
Then mount, and lead the path unknown, 
Swift I pursue ye, flaming guides. 

On pinions of my own ! 



FADE, FADE, EACH EARTHLY JOY. 



Mrs. Horatio Bonar. 



FADE, fade, each earthly joy, 
Jesus is mine ! 
Break, every tender tie, 

Jesus is mine ! 
Dark is the wilderness ; 
Earth has no resting-place ; 
Jesus alone can bless ; 
Jesus is mine ! 







£££ 




454 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Tempt not my soul away, 

Jesus is mine ! 
Here would I ever stay, 

Jesus is mine ! 
Perishing things of clay, 
Born but for one brief day, 
Pass from my heart away ; 

Jesus is mine ! 

Farewell, ye dreams of night, 

Jesus is mine ! 
Lost in this dawning bright, 

Jesus is mine ! 
All that my soul has tried, 
Left but a dismal void : 
Jesus has satisfied ; 

Jesus is mine ! 

Farewell, mortality, 

Jesus is mine ! 
Welcome, eternity, 

Jesus is mine ! 
Welcome, O loved and blest ! 
Welcome, sweet scenes of rest ; 
Welcome, my Saviour's breast : 

Jesus is mine ! 






A 



ill 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 455 



FROM EARTH TO HEAVEN. 



Written by Nicoll on his death-bed. 



PHE dew is on the summer's greenest grass, 
I- Through which the modest daisy blushing peeps ; 
The gentle wind that like a ghost doth pass, 

A waving shadow on the corn-field keeps ; 
But I who love them all shall never be 
Again among the woods, or on the woodland lea! 

The sun shines sweetly — sweeter may it shine ! — 
Blessed is the brightness of a summer day ! 

It cheers lone hearts ; and why should I repine, 
Although among green fields I cannot stray? 

Woods ! I have grown, since last I heard you wave, 

Familiar with death, and neighbor of the grave. 

These words have shaken mighty human souls — 
Like a sepulcher's echo drear they sound — 

E'en as the owl's wild whoop at midnight rolls 
The ivied remnants of old ruins round. 

Yet wherefore tremble ? Can the soul decay ? 

Or that which thinks and feels in aught e'er fade away ? 

Are there not aspirations in each heart 
After a better, brighter world than this ? 

Longings for beings nobler in each part — 

Things more exalted — steeped in deeper bliss? 

Who gave us these? What are they? Soul, in thee 

The bud is budding now for immortality. 





^ 



456 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Death comes to bear me where I long to be : 

One pang, and bright blooms the immortal flower ; 

Death comes to lead me from mortality, 

To lands which know not one unhappy hour ; 

I have a hope, a faith — from sorrow here 

I'm led by death away — why should I start and fear? 

If I have loved the forest and the field, 
Can I not love them deeper, better there ? 

If all that Power hath made to me doth yield 

Something of good and beauty — something fair — 

Freed from the grossness of mortality, 

May I not love them all, and better all enjoy ? 

A change from woe to joy — from earth to heaven, 
Death gives me this — it leads me calmly where 

The souls that long ago from mine were riven 

May meet again ! Death answers many a prayer. 

Bright day, shine on ! be glad : days brighter far 

Are stretched before mine eyes than those of mortals 
are ! 



PERMIT MINE EYES TO SEE. 



Robert Herrick. 



PERMIT mine eyes to see 
Part or the whole of thee 
O happy place ! 
Where all have grace 
And garlands shar'd 
For their reward ; 



<^— 






Jte 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 457 

Where each chaste soul 
In long- white stole 
And palms in hand 
Do ravisht stand : 
So in a ring 
The praises sing 
Of Three in One 
That fills the throne : 
While harps and viols then 
To voices say, Amen. 



O HEAVEN, SWEET HEAVEN! 



Edwin H. Nevin. 



O HEAVEN! Sweet Heaven! the home of the 
blest, 
Where hearts once in trouble are ever at rest ; 
Where eyes that could see not rejoice in the light, 
And beggars made princes are walking in white. 

O Heaven .! Sweet Heaven ! the mansion of love, 
Where Christ in His beauty shines forth from above, 
The Lamb with His sceptre, to charm and control, 
And love is the sea that encircles the whole. 

O Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! where purity reigns, 
Nor error disturbs, nor sin ever stains ; 
Where holiness robes in its garments so fair 
The great multitude that is worshipping there. 






)^g 




458 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! where music ne'er dies, 
But rich pealing anthems of glory arise ; 
Where saints with one feeling of rapture are stirred, 
And loud hallelujahs forever are heard. 

O Heaven ! Sweet Heaven ! where friends never part, 
But cords of true friendship bind firmly the heart ; 
Where farewell shall nevermore fall on the ear, 
Nor eyes that have sorrowed be dimmed with a tear. 



O WERE I THERE! 



Frelinghausen. — (1704.) 



AH, never then 
Her light again 
Jerusalem shall miss ; 
For the Lamb shall be her light, 
Filling her with bliss. 

Oh were I there ! 

Where all the air 

With lovely sounds are ringing ; 

Where the saints, Thee, Holy Lord, 

Evermore are singing. 

Lord Jesus, Thou 

My rest art now. 

O help me that I come 

Radiant with Thy light to shine 

In Thy glorious home. 






A: 



ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 459 



DEATH AN ENTRANCE TO HEAVEN. 



Ascribed to Francis Taylor. 



OLONG to be installed in the throne 
Of endless glory; let thy spirit groan 
After a full and plenary possession 
Of blessedness transcending all expression. 
Be like the bird of Paradise, which (they say) 
Being entangled in the snare, straightway 
Begins to strive, and never giveth o'er 
Till she enjoy her freedom as before. 
Sing Simeon's swan-like song at his decease — 
" Lord, let Thy servant now depart in peace." 
Welcome the messenger of death, which brings 
Most joyful tidings from the King of kings ; 
Which tells the saints of an approaching crown 
Of matchless glory, honor, and renown. 
Death is the chariot, which without delay, 
Saints to their Father's house bears swift away. 
Death is, to humble penitents, no less 
Than a short entrance into happiness. 
Death is the saints' ascension, day of bliss, 
Their marriage-day with Jesus Christ it is. 
Death is the charter of their liberty, 
The period of their pain and misery : 
Death gives them an immunity from sin, 
And frees them from the fears they once were in. 







j& 




460 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Death is the bane of woe, the grave of vice, 

The portal opening into Paradise ; 

Where grace, that in the bud was here below, 

Into the flower of glory straight shall blow ; 

Where saints' immortal souls, made more divine, 

Shall with the diamonds of perfection shine ; 

Where they, to their unspeakable delight, 

Of God Himself shall have a perfect sight ; 

Where, in their wills, there shall a likeness be 

To God, in holiness and purity ; 

Where, having shot the gulf of death, they shall 

Wear on their heads a crown imperial ; 

Where the rich caskets of their souls shall be 

O'erlaid with glory's best embroidery ; 

Where no contaminating tincture e'er 

Shall their unspotted purity besmear ; 

Where God Himself unto the saints shall be 

A spring of life to perpetuity ; 

Where they shall in the fragrant bosom lie 

Of their Beloved to eternity ; 

Where the enamel of their glory shall 

Never wear off, nor soiled be at all ; 

Where they a glorious kingdom shall receive, 

Of which no power on earth can them bereave ; 

Where they their safety shall behold from all 

Insulting foes, and their eternal thrall ; 

Where they shall be partakers of that joy 

Which will them satisfy, but never cloy ; 

Where Baca unto Beracha shall be 

Converted, mourning into melody — 

Where brinish tears shall never dim their eyes, 

Nor shall their ears be frighted more with cries ; 







j&. 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 46 1 

• 
Where sorrows ne'er shall damp their hearts again, 
Nor shall their senses be disturb'd with pain ; 
Where length of years, without the least decay 
Of strength, they shall enjoy ; yea, where for aye 
They shall be blessed with the love of many, 
And need not fear the jealousy of any ; 
Where for their labor a " quietus est" 
Each saint shall have, and ever be at rest ; 
Where life and immortality they shall 
Have, for their death in Christ, and Christ for all. 



MY SPIRIT LONGS FOR HEAVEN. 



Mrs. Emily C. Judson. 



YES, let me die ! am I of spirit-birth, 
And shall I linger here where spirits fell, 
Loving the stain they cast on all the earth! 

O, make me pure, with pure ones e'er to dwell ! 

Tis sweet to die ! the flowers of earthly love, 
(Frail, frail spring blossoms,) early droop and die ; 

But all their fragrance is exhaled' above, 
Upon our spirits evermore to lie. 

Life is a dream, a bright, but fleeting dream, 
I can but love ; but then my soul awakes, 

And from the mist of earthliness a gleam 
Of heavenly light, of truth immortal, breaks. 






A 




462 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

* 
I shrink not from the shadows sorrow flings 

Across my pathway; nOr from cares that rise 
In every footprint ; for each shadow brings 

Sunshine and rainbow as it glooms and flies. 



t>' 



But heaven is dearer. There I have my treasure ; 

There angels fold in love their snowy wings ; 
There sainted lips chant in celestial measure, 

And spirit-fingers stray o'er heaven-wrought strings. 

There loving eyes are on the portals straying ; 

There arms extend a wanderer to fold ; 
There waits a dearer, holier One, arraying 

His own in spotless robes and crowns of gold. 

Then let me die. My spirit longs for heaven, 

In that pure bosom evermore to rest ; 
But, if to labor longer here be given, 

" Father, thy will be done! " and I am blest. 



WHO DOTH NOT CRAVE THY REST? 



Frederick William Faber. 



Having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is far better." 

O PARADISE, O Paradise, 
Who doth not crave thy rest ? 
Who would not seek the happy land 
Where they that loved are blest ? 






itl- 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 

Where loyal hearts and true 
Stand ever in the light, 
All rapture through and through, 
In God's most holy sight. 

O Paradise, O Paradise, 
The world is growing old ; 

Who would not be at rest and free 
Where love is never cold ? 
Where loyal hearts and true, etc. 

Paradise, O Paradise, 
'Tis weary waiting here; 

1 long to be where Jesus is, 
To feel, to see Him near ; 

Where loyal hearts and true, etc. 

Paradise, O Paradise, 
I want to sin no more, 

1 want to be as pure on earth 
As on thy spotless shore ; 

Where loyal hearts and true, etc. 

O Paradise, O Paradise, 

I greatly long to see 
The special place my dearest Lord 

In love prepares for me ; 

Where loyal hearts and true, etc. 

Lord Jesu, King of Paradise, 

O keep me in Thy love, 
And guide me to that happy land 

Of perfect rest above ; 



463 











464 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Where loyal hearts and true 
Stand ever in the light, 
All rapture through and through, 
In God's most holy sight. Amen. 



MY SOUL, DON'T DELAY, HE CALLS THEE 
AWAY. 



John Gambolde. 



OTELL me no more of this world's vain store, 
The time for such trifles with me now is o'er ; 
A country I've found where true joys abound, 
To dwell I'm determined on that happy ground. 

The souls that believe, in Paradise live, 
And me in that number will Jesus receive : 
My soul, don't delay — He calls thee away, 
Rise, follow thy Saviour, and bless the glad day. 

No mortal doth know what He can bestow, 

What light, strength, and comfort : go after Him, go ; 

Lo, onward I move to a city above. 

None guesses how wondrous my journey will prove. 

Great spoils I shall win from death, hell, and sin, 
'Midst outward afflictions shall feel Christ within : 
And when I'm to die, Receive me, I'll cry, 
For Jesus hath loved me, I cannot tell why. 





<ft- 



.yfjiE 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 465 

But this I do find, we two are so joined, 
He'll not live in glory and leave me behind : 
So this is the race I am running, through grace, 
Henceforth — till admitted to see my Lord's face. 

And now I'm in care my neighbors may share 
These blessings : to seek them will none of you dare ? 
In bondage, O why, and death will you lie, 
When one here assures you free grace is so nigh ? 



SWEET GLORIES RUSH UPON MY SIGHT. 



Hymns of the Church Militant. 



SWEET glories rush upon my sight, 
And charm my wondering eyes ; 
The regions of immortal light ; 
The beauties of the skies. 

All hail ! ye fair celestial shores ! 

Ye lands of endless day ! 
Swift on my view your prospect pours, 

And drives my griefs away. 

There's a delightful clearness now. 
My clouds of doubt are gone, 

Fled is my former darkness too, 
My fears are all withdrawn. 

Short is the passage —short the space 
Between my home and me ; 

There ! there behold the radiant place ! 
How near the mansions be ! 
3° 







ztx. 




466 HEAVEN IN SONG, 

Immortal wonders! boundless things! 

In those dear worlds appear : 
Prepare me, Lord, to stretch my wings, 

And in those glories share. 



O FOR THE PEARLY GATES OF HEAVEN. 



Cecil Frances Alexander. 



THE roseate hues of early dawn, 
The brightness of the day, 
The crimson of the sunset sky, 
How fast they fade away ! 

Oh, for the pearly gates of heaven ! 

Oh, for the golden floor ! 
Oh, for the Sun of Righteousness 

That setteth nevermore ! 

The highest hopes we cherish here, 
How fast they tire and faint ? 

How many a spot defiles the robe 
That wraps an earthly saint ! 

Oh, for a heart that never sins ! 

Oh, for a soul washed white ! 
Oh, for a voice to praise our King, 

Nor weary day or night ! 

Here faith is ours, and heavenly hope. 

And grace to lead us higher ; 
But there are perfectness and peace 

Beyond our best desire. 







^ 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 4^7 

Oh, by Thy love and anguish, Lord ! 

Oh, by Thy life laid down ! 
Oh, that we fall not from Thy grace, 

Nor cast away Thy crown ! 



WHEN SHALL I BE, MY GOD, WITH THEE? 



Samuel Crossman. 



SWEET place, sweet place alone, 
The court of God Most High, 
The heaven of heavens, the throne 

Of spotless majesty ! 
The stranger homeward bends, 

And sigheth for his rest : 
Heaven is my home ; my friends 
Lodge there in AbrarrTs breast. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

Earth's but a sorry tent 

Pitched for a few frail days, 
A short-leased tenement ; 

Heaven's still my song, my praise. 
No tears from any eyes 

Drop in that holy choir ; 
But death itself there dies, 

And sighs themselves expire. 







A 




468 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My Gad, with Thee, 

To see Thy face ? 



There should temptations cease ; 
My frailties there should end ; 
There should I rest in peace, 

In the arms of my best Friend. 
Jerusalem on high 

My song and city is, 
My home whene'er I die, 
The centre of my bliss, 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 



Thy walls, sweet city, thine, 

With pearls are garnished ; 
Thy gates with praises shine, 

Thy streets with gold are spread ; 
No sun by day shines there, 
Nor moon by silent night : 
Oh no ! these needless are ; 
The Lamb's the city's light. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 






Y% 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 469 

There dwells my Lord, my King, 

Judged here unfit to live; 
There angels to Him sing, 
And lowly homage give - 
The Lamb's apostles there 
I might with joy behold ; 
The harpers I might hear 
Harping on harps of gold. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

The bleeding martyrs, they 

Within those courts are found, 
All clothed in pure array, 

Their scars with glory crowned. 
Ah me ! ah me ! that I 

In Kedar's tents here stay! 
No place like this on high ! 
Thither, Lord, guide my way! 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 







■^ijy 




470 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



LEAD US TO THY HOME. 



Francis Turner Palgrave. 



STAR of morn and even, 
Sun of Heaven's heaven, 
Saviour high and dear, 
Toward us turn Thine ear ; 
Through whate'er may come, 
Thou canst lead us home. 

Though the gloom be grievous, 
Those we leant on leave us ; 
Though the coward heart 
Quit its proper part, 
Though the tempter come, 
Thou wilt lead us home. 

Saviour pure and holy, 
Lover of the lowly, 
Sign us with Thy sign, 
Take our hands in Thine ; 
Take our hands and come 
Lead Thy children home ! 

Star of morn and even 
Shine on us from Heaven ; 
From Thy glory-throne 
Hear Thy very own ! 
Lord and Saviour, come, 
Lead us to our home ! 








ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 47 1 



I LOVE TO THINK OF HEAVEN. 



SWAINE. 



ILOVE to think of heaven, where I shall meet 
My fellow travellers, and where no more 
With grief or sin my mind will be disturbed ; 
Where holy saints and holy angels dwell 
In constant harmony and mutual love. 
But when my heart anticipates the sight 
Of God Incarnate, wearing on His side 
And hands and feet, those marks of love divine 
Which He on Calvary for me endured, 
All heaven is swallowed up in this ; 
And He who is my hope of heaven below 
Appears the glory of my heaven above. 



HASTE, MY BELOVED, RAISE MY SOUL. 



Isaac Watts. 



FROM Thee, my God, my joys shall rise, 
And run eternal rounds, 
Beyond the limits of the skies, 

And all created bounds. 
The holy triumphs of my soul 
Shall death itself outbrave, 
Leave dull mortality behind, 
And fly beyond the grave. 





^ 




472 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There, where my blessed Jesus reigns, 

In heaven's unmeasured space, 
I'll spend a long eternity 

In pleasure and in praise. 
Millions of years my wondering eyes 

Shall o'er thy beauties rove, 
And endless ages I'll adore 

The glories of thy love. 

My Saviour! every smile of Thine 

Shall fresh endearments bring, 
And thousand tastes of new delight 

From all Thy graces spring. 
Haste, my Beloved ! raise my soul 

Up to Thy blest abode ; 
Fly ! for my spirit longs to see 

My Saviour and my God ! 



LET ME BE WITH THEE WHERE THOU 

ART. 



Charlotte Elliott. 



LET me be with Thee where Thou art, 
My Saviour, my eternal Rest ; 
Then only will this longing heart 
Be fully and forever blest. 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art, 
Thy unveiled glory to behold ; 

Then only will this wandering heart 

Cease to be treacherous, faithless, cold. 







ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 4/3 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art, 
Where spotless saints Thy name adore ; 

Then only will this sinful heart 
Be evil and defiled no more. 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art, 

Where none can die, where none remove ; 

There neither death nor life will part 
Me from Thy presence and Thy love. 



I SEND THE JOYS OF EARTH AWAY 



Isaac Watts. 



I SEND the joys of earth away ; 
Away, ye- tempters of the mind, 
False as the smooth, deceitful sea, 
And empty as the whistling wind ! 

Your streams were floating me along, 
Down to the gulf of black despair ; 

And while I listened to your song, 

Your streams had ev'n conveyed me there. 

Lord ! I adore Thy matchless grace, 
Which warned me of that dark abyss, 

Which drew me from those treacherous seas, 
And bade me seek superior bliss. 

Now to the shining realms above 

I stretch my hands and glance my eyes ; 

Oh for the pinions of a dove 
To bear me to the upper skies! 










4^ 



474 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There, from the bosom of my God, 
Oceans of endless pleasure roll ; 

There would I fix my last abode, 
And drown the sorrows of my soul ! 



RISE, MY SOUL, AND STRETCH TH^ WINGS. 



Robert Seagrave. 



RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings, 
Thy better portion trace ; 
Rise from transitory things 

Toward heaven, thy native place : 
Sun, and moon, and stars decay ; 

Time shall soon this earth remove ; 
Rise, my soul, and haste away 
To seats prepared above. 

Rivers to the ocean run, 

Nor stay in all their course ; 
Fire, ascending, seeks the sun ; 

Both speed them to their source : 
So a soul that's born of God, 

Pants to view His glorious face, 
Upward tends to His abode. 

To rest in His embrace. 

Fly me, riches, fly me, cares, 

Whilst I that coast explore ; 
Flattering world, with all thy snares, 

Solicit me no more ! 






J&: 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 475 

Pilgrims fix not here their home ; 

Strangers tarry but a night ; 
When the last dear morn is come, 

They'll rise to joyful light. 

Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn, 

Press onward to the prize ; 
Soon our Saviour will return 

Triumphant in the skies : 
Yet a season, and you know 

Happy entrance will be given, 
All our sorrows left below, 

And earth exchanged for heaven. 



MY SAVIOUR BECKONS FROM ON HIGH. 



From the London Record. 



I" Hush Heaven I " were the last words of the late Bishop of Durham.] 

HUSH ! Heaven ! he whispered soft and clear, 
As notes angelic caught his ear ; 
Then quitting earth and mortal clay, 
His spirit soared to heavenly day. 

Hush ! stay your sorrows, loved ones, stay ! 
I would not linger by the way — 
Now Death for me has lost its sting! 
I hear the welcome of my King ! 







A 




476 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Hush ! from the everlasting hills 
The glorious trumpet's echo thrills, — 
The mighty Conqueror leads the band, 
And I must ready waiting stand. 

Hush ! 'tis the song oHasting peace, 
All struggles now forever cease, 
Each bitter pang, each weary sigh — 
My Saviour beckons from on high ! 

Hush ! sin can ne'er disturb me more, 
I'm treading close on Canaan's shore! 
Oh, earth! be still! for I would fain 
List to this new and wondrous strain ! 

Hush ! 'tis a charmed spirit swell 

Of sweetest chords. No tongue can tell 

To earth the grandeur of its flow! 

'Tis Heaven! Then life has closed below! 

He fled ! to join the brilliant throng, 
To add fresh triumph to " the song " — 
And, ere the link to earth was riven, 
Death was dissolved in tasting Heaven ! 



COME LET US JOIN OUR FRIENDS ABOVE 



Charles Wesley. 



COME, let us join our friends above 
That have obtained the prize, 
And on the eagle wings of love 
To joys celestial rise ; 






■^ 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 47/ 

Let all the saints terrestrial sing 

With those to glory gone, 
For all the servants of our King 

In earth and heaven are one. 



One family we dwell in Him, 

One church above, beneath, 
Though now divided by the stream, — 

The narrow stream of death ; 
One army of the living God, 

To His command we bow ; 
Part of His host have crossed the flood, 

And part are crossing now. 

Ten thousand to their endless home 

This solemn moment fly ; 
And we are to the margin come, 

And we expect to die ; 
His militant, embodied host, 

With wistful Jooks we stand, 
And long to see that happy coast 

And reach the heavenly land. 

Our old companions in distress 

We haste again to see, 
And eager long for our release 

And full felicity ; 
Even now by faith we join our hands 

With those that went before, 
And greet the blood-besprinkled bands 

On the eternal shore. 







-yA£. 




478 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Our spirits, too, shall quickly join, 

Like theirs, with glory crowned, 
And shout to see our Captain's sign, 

To hear His trumpet sound ; 
Oh that we now might grasp our Guide ! 

Oh that the word were given ! 
Come, Lord of hosts, the waves divide, 

And land us all in heaven ! 



MEET AGAIN! YES, WE SHALL MEET 
AGAIN. 



From the German of M. A. Zille. 



MEET again ! yes, we shall meet again, 
Though now we part in pain ; 
His people all 

Together Christ shall call — 
Hallelujah ! 

Soon the days of absence shall be o'er, 
And thou shalt weep no more ; 

Our meeting-day 

Shall wipe all tears away — 
Hallelujah ! 

Now I go with gladness to our home, 
With gladness thou shalt come ; 

There I will wait 

To meet thee at heaven's gate — 
Hallelujah ? 






-ill 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 

Dearest, what delight again to share 
Our sweet communion there — 

To walk among 

The holy ransomed throng — 
Hallelujah ! 

Here, in many a grief, our hearts were one, 
But there in joys alone ; 

Joy fading never, 

Increasing, deepening ever — 
Hallelujah ! 

Not to mortal sight can it be given 
To know the bliss of heaven ; 

But thou shalt be 

Soon there, and sing with me, 
Hallelujah ! 

Meet again ! yes, we shall meet again, 
Though now we part in pain ; 

Together all 

His people Christ shall call — 
Hallelujah ! 



479 



JOYS OF THE EARTH, YE FADE AWAY. 



From the Christian Examiner. 



THE earth, all light and loveliness in summer's 
golden hours, 
Smiles in her bridal vesture clad, and crowned with 
festal flowers 





M 




480 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

So radiantly beautiful, so like to heaven above, 
We scarce can deem more fair that world of perfect 
bliss and love. 

Is this a shadow faint and dim of that which is to come ? 
What shall the unveiled glories be of our celestial 

home, 
Where waves the glorious tree of life, where streams 

of bliss gush free, 
And all is glowing in the light of immortality ! 

To see again the home of youth, when weary years 
have passed, 

Serenely bright as when we turned and looked upon it 
last, 

To hear the voice of love, to meet the rapturous em- 
brace, 

To gaze through tears of gladness on each dear famil- 
iar face, — 

Oh! this indeed is joy, though here we meet again to 
part ; 

But what transporting bliss awaits the pure and faith- 
ful heart, 

Where it shall find the loved and lost, those who have 
gone before, 

Where every tear is wiped away, where partings are 



When, on devotion's seraph wings, the spirit soars 

above, 
And feels thy presence, Father, Friend, God of eternal 

love — 





A 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 48 1 

Joys of the earth, ye fade away before that living ray 
Which gives to the rapt soul a glimpse of pure and per- 
fect day, — 

A gleam of heaven's own light, though now its bright- 
ness scarce appears 

Through the dim shadows which are spread around this 
vale of tears ; 

But thine unclouded smile, O God, fills all that glori- 
ous place, 

Where we shall know as we are known, and see thee 
face to face ! 



WORTHIES THERE OF SACRED STORY. 



From the German of J. G. Albinus, by H. Mills. 



ALL must die ! there's no redemption ; 
Flesh ! 'tis all alike -but grass ! 
None that live can plead exemption ; 
Saints through death to glory pass. 
This vile body here must perish 
Ere, immortal, it can cherish 
Holy joys, the free reward 
For the ransomed of the Lord. 

Life on earth can I then covet 

Longer than my God shall please ? 

When above he would remove it, 
I will greet the soul's release. 
31 








ife 




482 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

For, through what my Saviour suffered, 
Freedom from the curse is offered ; 
He has promised, and to faith 
Gives the victory over death. 

Death — for me the Saviour bore it ; 

Dying, won for me the prize : 
Life — he will in bliss restore it ; 

Shall I not then joyful rise 
From this world of sin and anguish 
To that world for which I languish, 

There the Three in One to praise, 

With His saints, through endless days? 

Happy spirits, ever living, 

Thousand thousands all as one, 
Robed in light, their worship giving, 

There rejoice before the throne. 
There the seraphim are shining, 
Evermore in chorus joining — 

" Holy ! holy ! holy Lord ! 

Be thy holy name adored ! " 

Worthies, there, of sacred story, 

Prophets, patriarchs, are met ; 
There, apostles, too, in glory 

Fill their thrones by Jesus set ; 
All the saints that have ascended, 
Age on age through time extended, 

There in blissful concert sing 

Hallelujahs to their King. 






-^fe%- 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 4^3 

O Jerusalem, thou fairest ! 

In thy King how greatly blest ! 
Praising thou his splendor sharest 

Through thy streets of holy rest : 
Joy and peace, in thee united, 
By no fear of change are blighted, 

Balmy fragrance cheers the day, 

Which no night shall drive away. 

Yes, methinks I now behold it, 

That fair city of delight ; 
Now the robe — around me fold it, 

Robe of dazzling, purest white ; 
There, a crown of victory wearing, 
There, before the throne appearing, 

Mingle with the heirs of bliss, 

Where hosannas never cease. 



WORLD, FAREWELL! OF THEE I'M TIRED. 



From the German of J. G. Albinus, by Miss C. W 



INKWORTH. 



WORLD, farewell! of thee I'm tired, 
Now toward heaven my way I take ; 
There is peace the long-desired, 

Lofty calm that nought can break. 
World, with thee is war and strife, 
Thou with cheating hopes art rife ; 
But in heaven is no alloy, 
Only peace, and love, and joy. 







J% 




484 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

When I reach that home of gladness, 

1 shall feel no more this load, 
Feel no sickness, want, or sadness, 

Resting in the arms of God. 
In the world woes follow fast, 
And a bitter death comes last, 
But in heaven shall nought destroy 
Endless peace, and love, and joy. 

What are earthly joys ? a weary 

Chase of mist, or wind-borne foam. 
On this desert black and dreary 

Sins and vices have their home ; 
Thine, O world, are war and strife, 
Mocking pleasures, dying life ; 
But in heaven is no annoy, 
Only peace, and love, and joy. 

Oh, the music and the singing 
Of the host redeemed by love ! 

Oh, the hallelujahs ringing 

Through the halls of light above ! 

Thine, O world, the scornful sneer, 

Misery thy reward, and fear ; 

But in heaven is no annoy, 

Only peace, and love, and joy. 

Here is nought b, ut care and mourning ; 

Comes a joy, it will not stay ; 
Fairly shines the sun at dawning, 

Night will soon o'ercloud the day ; 







:|l|: 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 4§5 

World, with thee we weep and pine ; 
Gnawing care and grief are thine ; 
But in heaven is no alloy, 
Only peace, and love, and joy. 

Onward, then ; not long I wander, 

Ere my Saviour comes for me, 
And with Him abiding yonder, 

All His glory I shall see ; 
For there's nought but sorrow here, 
Toil, and pain, and many a fear ; 
But in neaven is no alloy, 
Only peace, and love, and joy. 

Well for him whom death has landed 

Safely on yon blessed shore, 
Where, in joyful worship banded, 

Sing the faithful evermore ; 
For the world hath strife and war ; 
All her works and hopes they mar ; 
But in heaven is no annoy, 
Only peace, and love, and joy. 
• 
Time, thou speedest on but slowly ; 

Hours, how tardy is your pace, 
Ere with Him, the High and Holy, 

I hold converse, face to face; 
World, with partings thou art rife, 
Filled with tears, and storms, and strife ; 
But in heaven can nought destroy 
Endless* peace, and love, and joy. 







M 




486 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Therefore will I now prepare me, 

That my work may stand His doom, 
And, when all is sinking round me, 

I may hear, not Go, but Come ! 
World, the voice of grief is here, 
Outward seeming, care, and fear ; 
But in heaven is no alloy, 
Only peace, and love, and joy. 



YE ANGELS WHO STAND ROUND THE 
THRONE. 



De Fleury, 



YE angels who stand round the throne, 
And view my Immanuel's face, 
In rapturous songs make Him known ; 

Tune, tune your soft harps to His praise 
He formed you the spirits you are, 

So happy, so noble, so good ; 
When others sunk down in despair, 
Confirmed by His power ye stood. 

Ye saints, who stand nearer than they, 

And cast your bright crowns at His feet, 
His grace and His glory display, 

And all His rich mercy repeat ; 
He snatched you from hell and the grave ; 

He ransomed from death and despair ; 
For you He was mighty to save, 

Almighty to bring you safe there. 







ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 487 

Oh, when will the moment appear 

When I shall unite in your song ? 
I'm weary of lingering here, 

And I to your Saviour 'belong ; 
I'm fettered and chained up in clay ; 

I struggle and pant to be free ; 
I long to be soaring away, 

My God and my Saviour to see. 

I want to put on my attire, 

Washed white in the blood of the Lamb ; 
I want to be one of your choir, 

And tune my sweet harp to His" name ; 
I want, oh, I want to be there, 

Where sorrow and sin bid adieu, 
Your joy and your friendship to share, 

To wonder and worship with you ! 



WHILE ON THE VERGE OF LIFE I STAND. 



Philip Doddridge. 



WHILE on the verge of life I stand, 
And view the scenes on either hand, 
My spirit struggles with its clay, 
And longs to wing its flight away. 

Where Jesus dwells my soul would be ; 
It faints my much-loved Lord to see ; 
Earth, twine no more about my heart, 
For 'tis far better to depart. 






A- 




488 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



Come, ye angelic envoys, come, 
And lead the willing pilgrim home ; 
Ye know the way to Jesus' throne, 
Source of my joys«and of your own. 

That blessed interview how sweet, 
To fall transported at His feet ; 
Raised in His arms, to view His face, 
Through the full beamings of His grace ; 

To see heaven's shining courtiers round, 
Each with immortal glories crowned, 
And, while His form in each I trace, 
Beloved- and loving all to embrace ; 

As with a seraph's voice to sing ; 
To fly as on a cherub's wing ; 
Performing, with unwearied hands, 
A present Saviour's high commands ! 

Yet, with these prospects full in sight, 
I'll wait Thy signal for my flight ; 
For, while Thy service I pursue, 
I find my heaven begun below. 







^jy. 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 489 



I LONG TO BEHOLD HIM ARRAYED. 



Charles Wesley. 



I LONG to behold Him arrayed 
With glory and light from above, 
The King in His beauty displayed, 

His beauty of holiest love ; 
I languish and sigh to be there, 

Where Jesus has fixed His abode ; 
Oh, when shall we meet in the air, 
And fly to the mountain of God ! 

With Him I on Zion shall stand, 

For Jesus hath spoken the word, 
The breadlh of Immanuel's land 

Survey by the light of my Lord ; 
But when, on Thy bosom reclined, 

Thy face I am strengthened to see, 
My fulness of rapture I find, 

My heaven of heavens, in Thee. 

How happy the people that dwell 

Secure in the city above ! 
No pain the inhabitants feel, 

No sickness or sorrow shall prove. 
Physician of souls, unto me 

Forgiveness and holiness give ; 
And then from the body set free, 

And then to the city receive ! 







jfy. 




490 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



OH FOR THE WINGS OF FAITH AND LOVE. 



Mrs. Anne Steele. 



OH for the wings of faith and love, 
To bear my thoughts and hopes above 
These little scenes of care ! 
Above these gloomy mists which rise, 
And pain my heart, and cloud my eyes, 

To see the dawn of heavenly day, and breathe celes- 
tial air. 

Yet higher would I stretch my flight, 
And reach the sacred courts of light, 

Where my Redeemer reigns ; 
Far-beaming from His radiant throne, 
Immortal splendors, joys unknown, 

With never-fading lustre, shine o'er all the blissful 
plains. 

Ten thousand times ten thousand tongues 
There join in rapture-breathing songs, 

And tune the golden lyre 
To Jesus, their exalted Lord ; 
Dear name, how loved, and how adored ! 

His charms awake the heavenly strain, and every 
note inspire. 

No short-lived pleasure there beguiles, 
But perfect bliss forever smiles, 



^ 






J&&: 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 49 1 

With undeclining ray ; 
Thither my thoughts would fain ascend, 
But, ah ! to dust and earth they bend, 

Fettered with empty vanities, and chained to lifeless 
clay. 

Dear Lord, and shall I ever be 
So far from bliss, so far from Thee, 

An exile from the sky ? 
Oh break these chains, my wishes fire, 
And upward bid my heart aspire ; 

Without Thy aid I cannot rise ; oh give me wings 
to fly! 



THY PRESENCE BEAMS ETERNAL DAY. 



Mrs. Anne Steele. 



SHOULD nature's charms, to please the eye, 
In sweet assemblage join, 
All nature's charms would droop and die, 
Jesus, compared with Thine. 

Vain were her fairest beams displayed, 

And vain her blooming store ; 
Even brightness languishes to shade, 

And beauty is no more. 

But ah, how far from mortal sight 

The Lord of glory dwells! 
A veil of interposing night 

His radiant face conceals. 







iti 




492 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Oh could my longing spirit rise 
On strong, immortal wing, 

And reach Thy palace in the skies, 
My Saviour and my King! 

Thy presence beams eternal day 
O'er all the blissful place ; 

Who would not drop this load of clay 
And die to see Thy face ? 



TO JESUS THE CROWN OF MY HOPE. 



William Cowper. 



TO Jesus, the crown of my hope ! 
My soul is in haste to be gone ; 
Oh bear me, ye cherubim, up, 

And waft me away to His throne •! 

My Saviour, whom absent I love, 
Whom, not having seen, I adore, 

Whose name is exalted above 
All glory, dominion, and power ; 

Dissolve Thou these bonds, that detain 
My soul from her portion in Thee ; 

Ah, strike off this adamant chain, 
And make me eternally free ! 

When that happy era begins, 

When arrayed in Thy glories I shine, 
Nor grieve any more by my sins 

The bosom on which I recline, — 







ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 

Oh then shall the veil be removed. 

And round me Thy brightness be poured ; 

I shall meet Him whom absent I loved, 
I shall see whom unseen I adored. 

And then never more shall the fears, 
The trials, temptations, and woes, 

Which darken this valley of tears, 
Intrude on my blissful repose. 

Or, if yet remembered above, 

Remembrance no sadness shall raise ; 

They will be but new signs of Thy love, 
New themes for my wonder and praise. 

Thus the strokes which from sin and from pain 

Shall set me eternally free, 
Will but strengthen and rivet the chain 

Which binds me, my Saviour, to Thee. 



493 



WHEN YONDER GLORIOUS SKY. 



From the Spanish of Ponce de Leon, by J. Bowring. 



\li J HEN yonder glorious sky, 
V V Lighted with million lamps, I contemplate, 

And turn my dazzled eye 

To this vain mortal state, 
All dim and visionary, mean and desolate, — 








494 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

A mingled joy and grief 
Fills all my soul with dark solicitude ; 

I find a short relief 

In tears, whose torrents rude 
Roll down my cheeks, or thoughts which thus intrude : 

Thou so sublime abode, 
Temple of light, and beauty's fairest shrine ! 

My soul, a spark of God, 

Aspiring to thy seats divine, 
Why, why is it condemned in this dull cell to pine ? 

Why should. I ask in vain 
For truth's pure lamp, and wander here alone, 

Seeking, through toil and pain, 

Light from the Eternal One, 
Following a shadow still that glimmers and is gone? 

Dreams and delusions play 
With man ; he thinks not of his mortal fate ; 

Death treads his silent way ; 

The earth turns round ; and then, too late, 
Man finds no beam is left of all his fancied state. 

Rise from your sleep, vain men ! 
Look round, and ask if spirits born of heaven, 

And bound to heaven again, 

Were only lent or given 
To be in this mean round of shades and follies driven. 

Turn your unclouded eye 
Up to yon bright, to yon eternal spheres, 

And spurn the vanity 

Of time's delusive years, 
And all its flattering hopes, and all its frowning fears. 






j& 



ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 495 

What is the ground ye tread, 
But a mere point, compared with that vast space 

Around, above you spread, 

Where, in the Almighty's face, 
The present, future, past, hold an eternal place ? 

List to the concert pure 
Of yon harmonious, countless worlds of light ! 

See, in his orbit sure 

Each takes his journey bright, 
Led by an unseen hand through the vast maze of night. 

But who to these can turn, 
And weigh them 'gainst a weeping world like this, 

Nor feel his spirit burn 

To grasp so sweet a bliss, 
And mourn that exile hard which here his portion is ? 

For there, and there alone, 
Are peace, and joy, and never-dying love, — 

There, on a splendid throne, 

'Midst all those, fires above, 
In glories and delights which never wane nor move. 

Oh wondrous blessedness, 
Whose shadowy effluence hope o'er time can fling! 

Day that shall never cease, — 

No night there threatening, 
No winter there to chill joy's ever-during spring. 

Ye fields of changeless green, 
Covered with living streams and fadeless flowers, 

Thou paradise serene ! 

Eternal, joyful hours 
My disembodied soul shall welcome in thy bowers. 







=atfg. 




496 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



OH FOR THE ROBES OF WHITENESS! 



Charitie Lees Smith. 



OH for the robes ef whiteness! 
Oh for the tearless eyes ! 
Oh for the glorious brightness 
Of the unclouded skies ! 

Oh for the no more weeping 
Within the land of love, 
The endless joy of keeping 
The bridal feast above ! 

Oh for the bliss of dying, 
My risen Lord to meet ! 
Oh for the rest of lying 
Forever at His feet ! 

Oh for the hour of seeing 
My Saviour face to face, 
The hope of ever being 
In that sweet meeting-place ! 

Jesus, Thou King of glory, 
I soon shall dwell with thee ; 
I soon shall sing the story 
Of Thy great love to me ! 






^ 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 49/ 

Meanwhile my thoughts shall enter 
E'en now, before Thy throne 
That all my love may centre 
On Thee, and Thee alone ! 



WHAT JOY WHILE THUS I VIEW THE DAY 



From the Latin of Zuinger, by Merrick. 



WHAT joy, while thus I view the day 
That warns my thirsting soul away, 
What transport fills my breast ! 
For, lo ! my great Redeemer's power 
Unfolds the everlasting door, 
And leads me to His rest. 

The festive morn, my God, is come 
That calls me to the hallowed dome, 

Thy presence to adore ; 
My feet the summons shall attend, 
With willing steps Thy courts ascend, 

And tread th' ethereal floor. 

E'en now to my expecting eyes 

The heaven-built towers of Salem rise ; 

E'en now, with glad survey, 
I view her mansions, that contain 
Th' angelic forms, an awful train, 

And shine with cloudless day. 
3 2 








A 




498 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Hither, from earth's remotest end, 
Lo ! the redeemed of God ascend, 

Their tribute hither bring ; 
Here, crowned with everlasting joy, 
In hymns of praise their tongues employ, 

And hail the immortal King ; — 

Great Salem's King, who bids each state 
On her decrees dependent wait ; 

In her, ere time begun, 
High on eternal base upreared, 
His hands the regal seat prepared 

For Jesse's favored Son. 

Mother of cities ! o'er thy head 

See Peace, with healing wings outspread, 

Delighted fix her stay ; 
How blest who calls himself thy friend : 
Success his labors shall attend, 

And safety guard his way. 

Thy walls, remote from hostile fear, 
Nor the loud voice of tumult hear, 

Nor war's wild wastes deplore ; 
There smiling Plenty takes her stand, 
And in thy courts with lavish hand 

Has poured forth all her store. 

Let me, blest seat, my name behold 
Among thy citizens enrolled ; 

In thee forever dwell ; 
Let Charity my steps attend, 
My sole companion and my friend, 

And Faith and Hope farewell. 






^K 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 499 



WOULD GOD I WERE IN THEE. 



From the German of J. M. Meyfart, by Caroline Winkworth. 



JERUSALEM, thou city fair and high, 
Would God I were in thee ! 
My longing heart fain, fain to thee would fly, — 
It will not stay with me ; 
Far over vale and mountain, 

Far over field and plain, 
It hastes to seek its Fountain, 
And quit this world of pain. 

Oh happy day, and yet far happier hour, 

When wilt thou come at last, 
When, fearless, to my Father's love and power, 
Whose promise standeth fast, 
My soul I gladly render ? 

For surely will His hand 
Lead her, with guidance tender, 
To heaven, her fatherland. 

A moment's space, and gently, wondrously, 

Released from earthly ties, 
The fiery chariot bears her up to thee, 
Through all these lower skies, 
To yonder shining regions ; 

While down to meet her come 
The blessed angel legions, 
And bid her welcome home. 









zk 




500 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Oh hail, thou glorious city ! now unfold 

The gates of grace to me ! 
How many a time I longed for thee of old, 
Ere yet I was set free 
From yon dark life of sadness, 

Yon world of shadowy nought, 
And God had given the gladness, 
The heritage I sought. 

Oh what the nation, what the glorious host, 

Comes sweeping swiftly down ? 
The chosen ones on earth who wrought the most, 
The church's brightest crown, 
Our Lord hath sent to meet me, 

As in the far-off years 
Their words oft came to greet me 
In yonder land of tears. 

The patriarchs' and prophets' noble train, 

With all Christ's followers true, 
Who bore the cross, and could the worst disdain 
That tyrants dared to do ; 
I see them shine forever, 
All glorious as the sun, 
'Mid light that fadeth never, 
Their perfect freedom won. 

And when within that lovely Paradise 

At last I safely dwell, 
From out my blissful soul what songs shall rise, 

What joy my lips shall tell, 






^ 



& 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 501 

While holy saints are singing 

Hosannas o'er and o'er, 
Pure hallelujahs ringing 

Around me evermore. 

Innumerous choirs before the shining throne 

Their joyful anthems raise, 
Till heaven's glad halls are echoing with the tone 
Of that great hymn of praise ; 
And all its host rejoices, 

And all its blessed throng 
Unite their myriad voices 
In one eternal song. 



BEYOND THE HILLS WHERE SUNS GO 
DOWN. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



BEYOND the hills where suns go down, 
And brightly beckon as they go, 
I see the land of fair renown. 

The land which I so soon shall know. 

Above the dissonance of time, 
And discord of its angry words, 

I hear the everlasting chime, 
The music of unjarring chords. 







* 




502 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I bid it welcome, and my haste 
To join it cannot brook delay ; 

Oh song of morning, come at last, 
And ye who sing it, come away ! 

Oh song of light, and dawn, and bliss, 
Sound over earth, and fill these skies 

Nor ever, ever, ever cease 

Thy soul-entrancing melodies ; — 

Glad song of this disburdened earth, 
Which holy voices then shall sing, 

Praise for creation's second birth, 
And glory to creation's King. 



O CHRIST, HOW GOOD AND FAIR. 



From the German of Paul Gerhard!:. 



O CHRIST, how good and fair 
Will be my portion where 
Thine eyes on me shall rest, 
And make me fully blest, 
When from this narrow earth 
To Thee I shall spring forth ! 

What joy, unmixed and full, 
Thou Treasure of the soul, 
When, in that home above, 
Thy heart speaks out its love 
To all made one with Thee, 
My brothers, Lord, and me ! 







.lis, 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 503 

What glorious light will shine 
Forth from Thy face divine, 
Which in that life untold 
Then first I shall behold ! 
How will Thy goodness free 
Fill me with ecstasy ! 

Lips, whence such words have streamed, 
Eyes, whence such pity beamed, 
Side, wounded once for me, 
All, all I then shall see : 
With reverent rapture greet 
Thy pierced hands and feet ! 

Ah, Jesus, my " good part," 
How will my mind and heart 
Vibrate with rapture through, 
And all my soul grow new, 
When Thou, with smiles of love, 
Openest those gates above ! 

" Come,'' thou wilt say, " blest child, 
Taste pleasures undefiled, 
And see the gifts, how fair. 
My Father's hands prepare ; 
Pasture thine heart forever 
In joy that fadeth never. 1 ' 

O thou poor, passing earth ! 
What are thy treasures worth 
Beside those heavenly crowns, 
And more than golden thrones, 
Which Christ hath treasured there 
For those who please Him here ? 







>tfe 




504 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 

This is the angels' land, 
Where all the blessed stand ; 
Here I hear nought but singing, 
See all with gladness springing ; 
Here is no cross, no sorrow, 
No parting on the morrow. 

When shall that joy begin ? 
When wilt Thou call me in ? 
Thou knowest ; but my feet 
Press onward Thee to meet ; 
And my heart, day by day, 
Bears me to Thee away. 



O, I HAVE HEARD HIS VOICE. 



Charlotte Elliott. 



'"T^HERE are refreshments sweeter far than sleep, 

-L Though its soft power 

Might gladly close the vigils I now keep 

From hour to hour, 
And hush these vain imaginings to rest, 
Which silence in my heart its dearest guest. 

Oh, I have heard his voice, his voice of love, 

In the still night, 
Sweet as the songs from seraph hearts above, 

Tranced in delight ! 
It haunts my memory, lives within my heart, 
And makes me long, yea, languish to depart. 



? 






s& 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 505 

Those who have heard it once can ne'er forget 

That voice divine ; 
With it compared, earth's accents are not sweet. 

My God, I pine 
A dweller in those palaces to be, 
Where I shall hear it through eternity. 

Then I shall ne'er be harassed by the din 

Of earthly thought ; 
All will be holy and serene within ; 

My. spirit, fraught 
With deepest reverence, with intense desire, 
Will listen to that voice, and never tire. 



MY SOUL IS LIKE SOME FLUTTERED DOVE. 



Robert C. Chapman. 



MY soul, amid this stormy world, 
Is like some fluttered dove, 
And fain would be as swift of wing, 
To flee to Him I love. 

The cords that bound my heart to earth 

Are broken by His hand ; 
Before His cross I found myself, 

A stranger in the land. 

That visage marred, those sorrows deep, 

The vinegar and gall, 
Were Jesus' golden chains of love, 

His captive to enthrall. 






A 




506 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

My heart is with Him on His throne 

And ill can brook delay, 
Each moment listening for the voice, 

" Rise up, and come away." 

With hope deferred, oft sick and faint, 
" Why tarries he ? " I cry ; 

And should my Saviour chide my haste. 
Sure I could make reply, — 

May not an exile, Lord, desire 
His own sweet land to see ? 

May not a captive seek release, 
A prisoner to be free ? 

A child, when far away, may long 
For home and kindred dear, 

And she that waits her absent Lord 
May sigh till he appear. 

I would, my Lord and Saviour, know 
That which no measure knows ; 

Would search the mystery of Thy love, 
The depth of all Thy woes. 



j\/\fL 



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-A 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. $0? 



GOOD NIGHT TILL THEN 



From the German. 



I JOURNEY forth rejoicing 
From this dark vale of tears, 
To heavenly joy and freedom, 

From earthly bonds and fears, 
'Where Christ our Lord shall gather 

All His redeemed again, 
His kingdom to inherit ; 

Good-night till then. 

Go to thy quiet resting, 

Poor tenement of clay ; 
From all thy pain and weakness 

I gladly haste away ; 
But still in faith confiding 

To find thee yet again, 
All glorious and immortal ; 

Good-night till then. 

Why thus so sadly weeping, 
Beloved ones of my heart ? 

The Lord is good and gracious, 
Though now He bids us part. 

Oft have we met in gladness, 
And we shall meet again, 

All sorrow left behind us ; 

Good-night till then. 







just . 



A 



508 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I go to see His glory 

Whom we have loved below ; 

I go the blessed angels, 
The holy saints, to know ; 

Our lovely ones departed 
I go to find again, 

And wait for you to join us ; 

Good-night till then. 

I hear the Saviour calling ; 

The joyful hour has come ; 
The angel guards are ready 

To guide me to our home, 
Where Christ our Lord shall gather 

All His redeemed again, 
His kingdom to inherit ; 

Good-night till then. 



LET ME GO, THE DAY IS BREAKING. 



James Montgomery. 



LET me go, the day is breaking ; 
Dear companions, let me go ; 
We have spent a night of waking 

In the wilderness below; 
Upward now I bend my way ; 
Part we here at break of day. 







A 




ASPIRATIONS FOR HEAVEN. 509 

Let me go ; I may not tarry, 

Wrestling thus with doubts and fears ; 
Angels wait my soul to carry 

Where my risen Lord appears ; 
Friends and kindred, weep not so ; 
If you love me, let me go. 

We have travelled long together, . 

Hand in hand and heart in heart, 
Both through calm and stormy weather, 

And 'tis hard, 'tis hard to part ; 
Yet we must ; farewell to you ; 
Answer, one and all, Adieu. 

Tis not darkness gathering round me 
Which withdraws me from your sight ; 

Walls of flesh no more can bound me ; 
But, translated into light, 

Like the lark on mounting wing, • 

Though unseen, you hear me sing. 

Heaven's broad day hath o'er me broken, 

Far beyond earth's span of sky ; 
I am dead ; nay, by this token 

Know that I have ceased to die. 
Would you solve the mystery ? 
Come up hither, — come and see ! 







-tj^£ 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



MY SPIRIT PINES FOR HOME. 



Anonymous. 



T 



HROUGHOUT the changing scenes of earth 



I oft in sorrow roam ; 
And though all things are beautiful, 
My spirit pines for home. 

Tis true the merry, happy birds, 
Pour forth their notes of glee, 

But, oh ! my aching bosom longs 
For heavenly harmony. 

The summer flowers do bud and bloom, 

Then quickly fade away ; 
But in my Father's gardens grow 

Flowers that ne'er decay. 

Those flowers so fair and beautiful, 

Are far too pure for earth ; 
They only shed their sweet perfume 

In their best place of birth. 

Where is that blest and hallowed spot, 

Where reigns eternal love ? 
It is beyond the sunny skies, 

In Heaven's high court above. 

Then wonder not that I throughout 
This world all pensive roam, 

For my sad spirit longs to be 
Within my Father's home. 







A. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 



All the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come. — 
Job 14 : 14- 

We ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the 
redemption of our body. — Rom. 8 : 23. 

But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it. — 
Rom. S : 25. 

Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and 
our Saviour Jesus Christ. — Titus 2 : 13. 






^. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN 



LOOK UP AND HOPE ON. 



Anonymous. 



" A LITTLE while ! V so spake our gracious Lord 
-^a- To the sad band around that sacred board, 
Where His long-burdened heart 
Already felt the smart 
Of His own Father's sin-avenging sword. 

Take thou the message, weeping, weary one ! 

Are not all things around, thee hastening on ? 
Thy Father's hand ordains 
All these, thy griefs and pains ; 

" A little while," they, too, are passed and gone. 

Have all the lights of love quite died away ? 

Does the last star withdraw its cheering ray? 
Till the long night wears past, 
Weeping and prayer must last, 

But joy approaches with the dawning day. 

" A little while" — the fetters hold no more — 
The spirit long enthralled is free to soar, 

And take its joyous flight, 

On radiant wings of light, 
To the blest mansions of the heavenly shore. 
33 





Jte 




514 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There ends the longings of the weary breast ; 

The good sought after here is there possessed. 
Ride o'er the stormy sea, 
Poor bark ! Soon shalt thou be 

In the calm haven of eternal rest. 

'' A little while," look upward and hope on ! 
Soon shall the troubled dreams of night be gone, 

The shadows pass away 

Before the abiding day — 
The Saviour comes to save and bless His own ! 



I STAND UPON THE RIVER'S VERGE. 



From the New York Observer. 



I STAND upon the river's verge, 
Its waves break at my feet : 
And can the roar of this dark surge 

Sound in my ears so sweet ? 
Higher and higher swells its wave, 

Nearer the billows come ! 
And can a dark and lonely grave 
Outweigh a -long-loved home? 

'Tis not alone the billow's roar 

That falls upon my ear ; 
But music from yon far-offshore 

Is wafted sweet and clear ; 







4t£ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 5 x 5 

For angel harps are tuned to cheer 

My faltering .human faith, 
And angel tongues are chanting there 

Triumphal hope in death. 

The everlasting hills arise, 

Bright in immortal bloom ; 
The radiance of those sunny skies 

Illumines e'en the tomb ; 
And glorious on those hills of light 

I see my own abode, 
E'en now its turrets are in sight— 

The city of our God ! 

Welcome, the waves that bear me o'er, 

Though dark and cold they be ! 
To gain my home on yonder shore 

I'll brave them joyously ; 
The snowy, blood-washed robe I'll wear, 

The palm of victory ! 
Welcome the waves that waft me there, 

Though dark and cold they be ! 



THE ROAD IS SO LONESOME BETWEEN. 



May Riley Smith. 



WHEN the crickets chirp in the evening, 
And the stars flash out in the sky, 
I sit in my lonely doorway 

And watch the children go by. 






■^ 




516 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I look at their fresh young faces, 
And hark to each merry word. 

For to- me, a child's own language 
Is the sweetest e'er was heard. 



And so, I sit in my doorway 

In the hour that I love the best, 
And think as I see them passing, 

My child will come with the rest : 
Think, when I hear the clicking 

Of the little garden gate, 
My darling's hand is upon it — 

O r why has she come so late ? 

But the days have been slowly weaving 

Their warp of toil in my life ; 
The weeks have rolled on me their burden 

Of waiting and patience and strife; 
The flowers that came with the summer 

Have finished their errand so sweet, 
And autumn is drooping her harvests 

Mellow and ripe at my feet. 

And yet my little girl comes not, 

And I think she has missed her way, 
And strayed from this cold, dark country 

To one of perpetual day. 
I think that the angels have found her, 

And, loving her better than we, 
Have begged the Good Father to keep her 

Right on, through eternity. 







;|J^ 



WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 517 

Perhaps. But I long to enfold her. 

To tangle my hand in her hair, 
To feast my starved mouth on her kisses, 

To hear her light foot on the stair. 
I am but a poor, selfish mother, 

And mother-hearts starve, though they know 
Their children are drinking the nectar 

From lilies in heaven that blow. 

Some day I am sure I shall find her, — 

But the road is so lonesome between, 
My spirit grows sick and impatient 

For a glimpse of the pastures so green.; 
Till then I shall sit in the doorway, 

In the hour that my heart loves best, 
And think, when the children pass homeward, 

My child will come with the rest. 



THE LAND O' THE LEAL. 



Lady Nairne. 



I'M wearin' awa', Jean, 
Like sna' — wraiths in tha', Jean, 
I'm wearin' awa' 

To the Land o' the Leal. 
There's nae sorrow there, Jean, 
There's nither could, nair care, Jean, 
The days are a' fair 

F the Land o' the Leak 









!f&£ 



518 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O, dry your glistening e'e, Jean, 
My soul langs to be free, Jean, 
And angels beckon me 

To the Land o' the Leal. 
Ye have been gude an' true, Jean, 
Your task's near ended noo, Jean, 
And I'll welcome you 

To the Land o' the Leal. 

Our bonny bairn's there, Jean, 
She was baith gude and fair, Jean, 
And we grudged her sair 

To the Land o' the Leal ! 
But sorrow's sel' wears past, Jean, 
And joys are coming fast, Jean, 
The joy that's aye to last, 

I' the Land o' the Leal. 

Our friends are a' gane, Jean, 
We ? ve long been left alane, Jean, 
We'll a' meet again 

I' the Land o' the Leal. 
Then fare thee weel, my ain Jean, 
This warld's cares are vain, Jean, 
We '11 meet, an' a' 11 be plain, 

I' the Land o' the Leal ! 





J& 




WAITIxMG FOR HEAVEN. 



519 



BEYOND THE SMILING AND THE WEEPING. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



BEYOND the smiling and the weepin; 
I shall be soon : 
Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the blooming and the fading, 

I shall be soon : 
Beyond the shining and the shading, 
Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

Beyond the rising and the setting, 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the calming and the fretting, 
Beyond remembering and forgetting, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home! 
Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come ! 







4te 




520 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Beyond the parting and the meeting, 

I shall be soon : 
Beyond the farewell and the greeting, 
Beyond the pulse's fever beating, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come ! 

Beyond the frost-chain and the fever, 

I shall be soon : 
Beyond the rock-waste and the river, 
Beyond the ever and the never, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet-home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 



WHERE DOST THOU LIE, O LAND OF PEACE 



Anonymous. 



WHERE dost thou lie, O Land of Peace 
Across what foaming ocean's swell ? 
My heart, with sighs that never cease, 

Yearns in thy palaces to dwell ; 
But yet, O fair and distant land, 
I cannot see thy shining strand. 







jfy. 



WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 521 

Sometimes when morning's iris light 

Is flaming in the eastern sky, 
I say, Beneath that rose and white 

The blessed realm must surely lie ! 
But morning's brow by noon is fanned, 
And thou art still the distant land. 

And oft when sunset's burnished gold 
Falls warm upon the water's breast, 

I say, Beyond that glorious fold 

Must gleam the islands of the blest ! 

But stars steal out, a silent band, 

And thou art still the distant land. 

And then I dream — a blissful dream 

That I have gained thy tranquil bowers. 

And lo ! life's sorrows only seem 

Winds that a moment bent its flowers — ■ 

I wake, I clasp no angel hand, 

And thou art still the distant land. 

I watch, I long, I faint for thee ! 

Canst thou not open wide the door, 
That I may enter in and be 

Part of thy peace forevermore? 
O send that sleep so sweet, so grand, 
And thou shalt be no distant land ! 






V 



J®. 




522 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



I'M KNEELING AT THE THRESHOLD. 



From the Sunday Magazine. 



I'M kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint and sore: 
Waiting for the dawning, for the opening of the 
door ; 
Waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and come 
To the glory of His presence, to the gladness of His 
home. 

A weary path IVe travelled, 'mid darkness, storm and 

strife ; 
Bearing many a burden, struggling for my life : 
But now the morn is breaking, my toil will soon be 

o'er, 
I'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is on the door. 

Methinks I hear the voices of the blessed as they 

stand, 
Singing in the sunshine of the sinless land ; 
O! would that I were with them, amid their shining 

throng, 
Mingling in their worship, joining in their song. 

The friends that started with me have entered long 

ago; 
One by one they left me struggling with the foe ; 
Their pilgrimage was shorter, their triumph sooner 

won ; 
How lovingly they'll hail me when my toil is done ! 





_J^ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 523 

With them the blessed angels that know no grief nor 

sin, 
I see them by the portals, prepared to let me in. 
O Lord, I wait Thy pleasure, Thy time and way are 

best; 
But I am wasted, worn and weary ; O, Father, bid me 

rest ! 



THE LAND WHERE MY NESTLINGS BE. 



Jean Ingelow. 



A SONG of a boat : 
There was once a boat on a billow, 
Lightly she rocked to her port remote, 
And the foam was white in her wake like snow, 
And her frail mast bowed when the breeze would blow, 
And bent like wand of willow. 

I shaded mine eyes one day when a boat 

Went courtesying over a billow ; 
I marked her course, till a dancing mote, 
She faded out on the moonlit foam, 
And I stayed behind, in the dear, loved home : 
And my thoughts ail day were about the boat, 
And my dream upon a pillow. 

I pray you hear my song of a boat, 

For it is but short ; 
'My boat, you shall find nothing fairer afloat, 

In river or port. 




1 



¥■ 





4i£ 




524 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Long I looked out for the lad she bore, 
On the open, desolate sea, 

And I think he sailed to the heavenly shore, 
For he came not back to me ! 

Ah, me ! 



A song of a nest : 

There was once a nest in a hollow, 
Down in the mosses and knot-grass pressed, 
Soft and warm, and full to the brim ; 
Vetches leaned over it purple and dim, 
With buttercup buds to follow. 



I pray you hear my song of a nest, 

For it is not long ; 
You shall never light, in a summer quest 

The bushes among — 
Shall never light on a prouder sitter, 

A fairer nestful, nor ever know 
A softer sound than their tender twitter, 

That wind-like did come and go. 

I had a nestful once of my own, 

Ah, happy, happy, I ! 
Right dearly I loved them : but when they were grown 

They spread out their wings to fly — 
O, one after one they flew away, 

Far up to the heavenly blue, 
To the better country, the upper day, 

And — I wish I was going too. 






itik: 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 525 

1 pray you, what is the nest to me — 

My empty nest ? 
And what is the shore, where I stood to see 

My boat sail down to the west? 
Can I call that home where I anchor yet. 

Though my good man has sailed? 
Can I call that home where my nest was set, 

Now all its hopes have failed ? 
Nay, but the port where my sailor went, 

And the land where my nestlings be : 
There is the home where my thoughts are sent — 

The only home for me — 

Ah, me ! 



AS HOME WE WAFT FROM OUR ALIEN 
SHORE. 



Bishop Coxe. 



SO, in our simple creed, 
We drop this frail mortality we wear, 
And laud to Him who for our sakes did bleed, 

And on His cross our bitter griefs did bear — 

We know our ransomed nature, certain heir 
Of deathless being from its dying seed. 

They who nurse hopes, live every day an age, 
And strive more fleet to live, by living well: 

And so we hasten on our pilgrimage, 
Plucking earth's flowers, but fain in heaven to dwell. 

Life, in our ear, jdoth mean eternity; 







_^ : 




526 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And Time, our staff, but speeds us on our way, 

While all around, poor voyagers we see, 
Who bear it, but to chronicle each day, 

And notch the hurrying hours of destiny 
In fearful units, numbering for dismay 

The lavished seeds of immortality. 
But, O, our souls take no account of time, 
For we are gazing into worlds sublime ; 

Our spirits are like song-birds, nursed to light 
In climates far too rude, 
That, by a heavenly instinct, stretch their flight i 
To skies where such bright plumes were made to 
brood. 
We know our kindred there, 
In genial warmth, their golden plumage wear, 
And sing their native notes forevermore ! 
We yearn for purer air, 
And dream the music we were made to share, 
As home we waft us, from our alien shore. 



LORD, THE WAVES ARE BREAKING O'ER 

ME. 



From Hymns of the Church Militant. 



LORD, the waves are breaking o'er me and around ; 
Oft of coming tempests I hear the moaning 
sound ; 
Here, there is no safety, rocks on either hand — 
'Tis a foreign roadstead, a strange and dreary land : 






A 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 527 

Wherefore should I linger ? others, gone before 

Long since, safe are landed on a calm and friendly 

shore. 
Now, the sailing orders, in mercy, Lord, bestow, 
Loose the cable, let me go ! 

Lord, the night is closing 'round my feeble bark, 
How shall I encounter its watches long and dark ? 
Sorely worn and shattered, by many a billow past, 
Can I stand another rude and stormy blast ? 
Oh, the promised haven I never may attain, 
Sinking and forgotten, amid the lonely main, 
Enemies around me, gloomy depths below, 
Loose the cable, let me go ! 

Lord, I would be. near Thee, with Thee, where Thou 

art, 
Thine own word hath said, " 'Tis better to depart." 
There to serve Thee better, there to love Thee more, 
With Thy ransomed people, to worship and adore. 
Ever to Thy presence, Thou dost call Thine own — 
Why am I remaining, helpless and alone ? 
Oh, to see Thy glory, Thy wondrous love to know ! 
Loose the cable, let me go ! 

Lord, the lights are glancing from the distant shore, 
Where no billows threaten, where no tempests roar. 
Long-beloved voices, calling me, I hear! 
Oh, how sweet the summons falls upon my ear ! 
Here, are foes and strangers, faithless hearts and cold, 
There, is fond affection, fondly proved of old ! 
Let me haste to join them ; may it not be so? 
Loose the cable, let me go ! 






^ 




5-?8 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Hark ! the solemn answer ! hark the promise sure, 

" Blessed are those servants who to the end endure ! " 

Yet a little longer, hope and tarry on, 

Yet a little longer, weak and weary one ! 

More to perfect patience, to grow in faith and love, 

More thy strength and wisdom, and faithfulness to 

prove ; 
Then, the sailing orders thy Captain shall bestow, 
Loose the cables — let thee go ! 



DROPPING DOWN THE RIVER. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



DROPPING down the troubled river, 
To the tranquil, tranquil shore ; 
Dropping down the misty river, 
Time's willow-shaded river, 

To the spring-embosomed shore ; 
Where the sweet light shineth ever, 
And the sun goes down no more ; 
O wondrous, wondrous shore ! 

Dropping down the winding river, 

To the wide and welcome sea ; 
Dropping down the narrow river, 
Man's weary, crooked river, 

To the blue and star-lit sea ; 
Where no tempest wrecketh ever, 

Where the sky is fair and free ; 

O joyous, joyous sea ! 







^ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 529 

Dropping down the noisy river, 

To our peaceful, peaceful home ; 
Dropping down the turbid river, 
Earth's bustling, crowded river, 

To our gentle, gentle home : 
Where the rough sea riseth never, 

And the vexings cannot come, 

O, loved and longed-for home ! 

Dropping down the eddying river, 

With a Helmsman true and tried ; 
Dropping down the dangerous river, 
M-ortality's dark, threatening river, 

With a sure and heavenly Guide ; 
Even Him, who to deliver 

My soul from death hath died ; 

Oh Helmsman, true and tried ! 

Dropping down the. rapid river, 

To the dear and deathless Land ; 
Dropping down the well-known river, 
Life's angry, swollen river. 

To the Resurrection-land ; 
Where the living live forever, 

And the dead have joined the band, 

In that fair and blessed land ! 
34 






jfc 




530 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



MY FEET ARE WORN AND WEARY. 



S. Roberts. 




" The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory 
that shall be revealed in us.'* 

MY feet are worn and weary with the march 
Over rough roads and up the steep hill-side ; 
Oh, city of our God, I fain would see 

Thy pastures green, where peaceful waters glide. 

My hands are weary, laboring, toiling on, 

Day after day, for perishable meat ; 
Oh, city of our God, I fain would rest ; 

I sigh to gain thy glorious mercy-seat. 

My garments, travel-worn and stained with dust, 
Oft rent by briars and thorns that crowd my way, 

Would fain be made, Oh Lord, my righteousness, 
Spotless and white in heaven's unclouded ray. 

My eyes are weary looking at the sin, 

Impiety, and scorn upon the earth ; 
Oh, city of our God, within thy walls, 

All, all are clothed upon with the new birth. 

My heart is weary of its own deep sin — 

Sinning, repenting, sinning still alway ; 
When shall my soul Thy glorious presence feel, 

And find its guilt, dear Saviour, washed away? 





& 



WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 



531 



Patience, poor soul ; the Saviour's feet were worn ; 

The Saviour's heart and hands were weary too ; 
His garments stained and travel-worn and old, 

His sacred eyes blinded with tears for you. 

Love thou the path of sorrow that He trod ; 

Toil on, and wait in patience for thy rest ; 
Oh, city of our God, we soon shall see 

Thy glorious walls, home of the loved and blest. 



MY AIN COUNTREE. 



Miss M. A. Lee. 



I'M far frae my hame, an' I'm weary oftenwhiles 
For the langed-for hame-bringing, an' my Father's 
welcome smiles ; 
I'll ne'er be fu' content until my een do see 
The gowden gates o' heaven, an' my ain countree. 

The earth is flecked wi' flowers, mony-tinted, fresh and 

gay, 
The birdies warble blithely, for my Father made them 

sae ; 
But these sights an' these soun's will as naething be to 

me 
When I hear the angels singing in my ain countree. 

I've His gude word o' promise, that some gladsome 

day the King 
To His ain royal palace His banished hame will bring ; 
Wi' een an' wi' hearts running owre we shall see 
The King in His beauty, an' our ain countree. 






A 



532 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



My sins hae been mony, an' my sorrows hae been sair, 
But there they'll never vex me nor be remembered 

mair ; 
His bluid hath made me white, His hand shall dry 

mine ee, 
When He brings me hame at last to my ain countree. 

Like a bairn to its mither, a wee birdie to its nest, 
I wad fain be ganging noo unto my Saviour's breast ; 
For He gathers in his bosom witless, worthless lambs 

like me, 
An' carries them Himsel' to His ain countree. 

He's faithfu' that hath promised ; He'll surely come 

again ; 
He'll keep His tryst wi' me, at what hour I dinna ken ; 
But He bids me still to watch, an' ready aye to be, 
To gang at any moment to my ain countree. 

So I'm watching aye, an' singing o' my hame as I wait 
For the soun'ing o' His footfa' this side the gowden 

gate, 
God gie His grace to ilk ane wha listens noo to me, 
That we a' may gang in gladness to our ain countree. 







jte 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 533 



IN THE DISTANCE LOOMS BEFORE ME. 



Edwin Griff. 



SITTING lonely, dusky shadows, 
Deep'ning as the moments flee, 
Stretch their dreamy lengths before me, 
Like weird phantoms on the lea. 

Sadly, stilly in the silence, 

Leaves are dropping like soft rain ; 

Autumn's gorgeous, crimson leaflets, 
Carpeting the earth again. 

In the distance, looms before me 
Waters, in their glist'ning flow: 

Onward still, and on forever, 

Like the years that come and go. 

On the river's moonlit bosom 

Barks with white sails fleck the tide: 

Seeming like pure spirits watching 
O'er the wavelets as they glide. 

Twilight passes, and resplendent 
Stars now gem the azure pure ; 

Smiling now in sky and water, 

Answering stars shine bright and clear. 







4te 




534 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Up the river streams the glory 

From earth's answering hosts to-night ; 

On the waters far off flowing — 
In the land of silver light. 

Waiting lonely in our Autumn 
By life's sobbing, sighing stream, 

Till the boatman's oar shall echo 
Through the starlit air of e'en, 

May we glide safe up the river 

Of Eternity alone — 
Haloed with the viewless glory 

Streaming from the Great White Throne. 



FOOTSTEPS ON THE OTHER SIDE. 

WEARY and worn, at close of day, 
Fainting and dying by the way, 
A wounded Pilgrim sleeping lay : 
While Silence, stealing to his side, 
And winding her soft arms around, 
Sighed in her dreams and pressed his wound. 
And so, he, waking, caught a sound — 
A footstep on the other side. 

How many weary pilgrims lie, 
And watching wait, and waiting sigh 
For steps that never wander nigh, 
But pass upon the other side : 







jgg. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 535 

For steps that trampled heart and brain, 
And made their lives a lingering pain, 
And passed, and never came again — 
Lost footsteps on the other side. 

How marry walk with bleeding feet, 

Seeking the loved and lost to meet, 

While the dear visions flit and fleet, 

And vanish on the other side ! 

While life's fresh Love and youth's sweet Trust, 

Those Eden-blooms in earthly dust, 

Lie bruised and broken, stained and crushed, 

'Neath footsteps on the other side. 

And so we watch, and watching sigh, 
While youth, and faith, and hope go by ; 
While life, and love, and gladness die 
With footsteps on the other side. 
And so we wait with ear and eye 
For one dear echo floating by — 
A grief, a woe, a wandering sigh, 
A footstep on the other side. 

O heavy hearts, that ache and break! 
O heavy eyes, that droop and sleep ! 
Why must ye ever wake and weep 
At footsteps on the other side ? 
Why must ye ever lie forlorn, 
And ache, and wake, and weep so long 
Because one footstep has gone wrong, 
And passed upon the other side ? 







jgg. 




536 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



WE HAVE NO HOME BUT HEAVEN. 

WE have no home but heaven ; 
A pilgrim's garb we wear ; 
Our path is marked by changes, 

And strewed with many a care ; 
Surrounded with temptations ; 

By various ills oppressed ; 
Each passing day proclaims aloud 
That this is not our rest. 

We have no home but heaven ; — 

Then wherefore seek one here ? 
Why murmur at privation, 

Or grieve when foes appear ? 
It is but for a season 

That we as strangers roam, 
And travellers must not expect 

The comforts of a home. 

We have no home but heaven ; 

We want no home beside ; 
O God, our Friend and Father, 

Our footsteps thither guide ; 
Unfold to us its glory, 

Prepare us to employ 
Our soul, our life, our strength, our all, 

In that blest world of joy. 







_^ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 537 

We have no home but heaven ; — 

How cheering is the thought ! 
How bright the expectations 

Which God's own word has taught ; 
With eager hearts we hasten 

The promised bliss to share ; 
We have no home but heaven ; — 

O, when shall we be there ? 



NOT NOW, MY CHILD. 



Dublin Tract Repository. 



NOT now, my child — a little more rough tossing, 
A little longer on the billow's foam, 
A few more journeyings in the desert darkness, 
And then the sunshine of thy Father's home ! 

Not now, for I have wanderers in the distance, 
And thou must call them in with patient love ; 

Not now, for I have sheep upon the mountains, 
And thou must follow them where'er they rove. 

Not now, for I have loved ones sad and weary ; 

Wilt thou not cheer them with a kindly smile? 
Sick ones who need thee in their lonely sorrow ; 

Wilt thou not tend them yet a little while? 

Not now, for wounded hearts are sorely bleeding, 
And thou must teach those widowed hearts to sing ; 

Not now. for orphan tears are thickly falling ; 

They must be gathered 'neath some sheltering wing. 







jgy. 




538 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



Not now, for many a hungry one is pining ; 

Thy willing hand must be outstretched and free ; 
Thy Father hears the mighty cry of anguish, 

And gives HiS answering messages to thee. 

Not now, for dungeon walls look stern and gloomy, 
And prisoners' sighs sound strangely on the breeze — 

Man's prisoners, but thy Saviour's noble freemen- 
Hast thou no ministry of love for these ? 

Not now, for hell's eternal gulf is yawning, 
And souls are perishing in helpless sin ; 

Jerusalem's bright gates are standing open — 
Go to the banished ones and fetch them in ! 

Go with the name of Jesus to the dying, 

And speak that Name in all its living power ; 

Why should thy faltering heart grow chill and weary ? 
Canst thou not watch with Me one little hour ? 

One little hour ! and then the glorious crowning ; 

The golden harp-strings and the victor's palm ; 
One little hour ! and then the Hallelujah ! 

Eternity's long, deep thanksgiving psalm ! 








_A. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. . 539 



A LITTLE WHILE TO TOIL ALONG. 



From the Banner of the Covenant. 



A LITTLE while to toil along 
This weary winding way, 
And we shall join the ransomed throng, 
And we shall sing love's choral song, 
In yonder land of day. 

A little while, for doubt and gloom, 

And feeble trust in God, 
And faith shall spread her eagle plume, 
The soul her palm and crown assume, 

Forever with the Lord. 

A' little while to pour our love, 

On fading forms of clay, 
To weep with tears of bitter grief, 
With anguish that hath no relief, 

And death shall pass away. 

A little while to scatter smiles, 

Like sunshine on our way, 
With willing heart and kindly hand, 
To help each trembling outcast band, 

To hope, to watch and pray. 







iIm 




540 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

A little while to do the work 

Our Master's hand hath given, 

Fast fleet away the hours of grace, 

Night falls upon our dwelling place, 

Short space to work for heaven. 

A little while to face the storm, 
And breast the angry billow, 
And Christ shall whisper, " Peace, be still,' 
And ransomed by our Lord's sweet will, 
His breast shall be our pillow. 

A little while ! Take heed, my soul, 
These words of love and warning : 
That ere thou reach the appointed goal, 
Thou go to Christ, and be made whole, 
And enter heaven's bright morning. 



WHY SHOULD I LINGER HERE. 



J. Birch. 



HAIL ! happy day, 
When I shall soar away, 
And leave all earthly care behind, 
Too grov'lling for the mind ; 
When with untiring gaze, 
My eye shall rest in sweet delight, 
On that high throne divinely bright, 
Where uncreated glories blaze ! 






A 



ONE DAY NEARER HOME. 



Anonymous. 



' Heaven is my Fatherland, 
Heaven is my home." 



O'ER the hills the sun is setting, 
And the eve is drawing on ; 
Slowly drops the gentle twilight, 

For another day is gone ; 
Gone for aye — its race is over, 

Soon the darker shades will come ; 
Still, 'tis sweet to know at even, 
We are one day nearer home. 

a One day nearer,'' sings the mariner, 
As he glides the waters o'er, 

While the light is softly dying 
On his distant native shore. 





WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 54 1 

While standing on this mortal shore, 

That vision casts a shadow o'er 
Those golden joys, and friendships dear, 

My heart preferr'd before ; 
Why, Saviour, should I linger here, 

My absence to deplore, 
From that celestial blissful place, 
Where the rich beauties of thy face 

Shall be concealed no more ! 





j& 




542 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Thus the Christian on life's ocean, 
As his light boat cuts the foam, 

In the evening cries with rapture — ■ 
" I am one day nearer home." 

Worn and weary, oft the pilgrim 

Hails the setting of the sun ; 
For the goal is one day nearer, 

And his journey nearly done. 
Thus we feel when o'er life's desert, 

Heart and sandal-sore we roam ; 
As the twilight gathers o'er us, 

We are one day nearer home. 

Nearer home ! Yes, one day nearer 

To our Father's house on high — 
To the green fields and the fountains 

Of the land beyond the sky : 
For the heavens grow brighter o'er us, 

And the lamps hang in the domej 
And our tents are pitched still closer, 

For we're one day nearer home. 



THE PRELIBATION OF HEAVEN 



Charles Wesley. 



HOW happy every child of grace 
Who knows his sins forgiven ; 
This earth, he cries, is not my place, 
I seek my place in Heaven ; 







^ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 543 

A country far from mortal sight, — 
Yet O ! by faith I see 
The land of rest, the saints' delight, 
The heaven prepared for me. 

A stranger in the world below, 

I calmly sojourn here ; 

Nor can its happiness or woe, 

Provoke my hope or fear: 

Its evils in a moment end, 

Its joys as soon are past ; 

But O ! the bliss to which I tend, 

Eternally shall last. 

To that Jerusalem above 

With singing I repair ; 

While in the flesh my hope and love, 

My heart and soul are there : 

There my exalted Saviour stands 

My merciful High Priest, 

And still extends his wounded hands 

To take me to His breast. 

What is there here to court my stay, 
Or hold me back from home, 
While angels beckon me away, 
And Jesus bids me come ? 
Shall I regret my parted friends 
Still in the vale confined ? 
Nay, but whene'er my soul ascends 
They will not stay behind. 







yfo 




544 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The race we all are running now, 

And if I first attain, 

They too their willing head shall bow, 

They too the prize shall gain. 

Now on the brink of death we stand, 

And if I pass before 

They all shall soon escape to land, 

And hail me on the shore. 

Then let me suddenly remove, 
That hidden life to share ; 
I shall not lose my friends above 
But more enjoy them there. 
There we in Jesus' praise shall join, 
His boundless love proclaim, 
And solemnize in songs divine 
The marriage of the Lamb. 

Oh what a blessed hope is ours ! 

While here on earth we stay, 

We more than taste the heavenly powers 

And antedate that day: 

We feel the resurrection near, 

Our life in Christ conceal'd, 

And with his glorious presence 

Our earthen vessels fill'd. 

Oh ! would He more of heaven bestow, 

And let the vessel break, 

And let our ransom'd spirits go 

To grasp the God we seek. 







A 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 545 

In rapturous awe on Him to gaze, 
Who bought the sight for me, 
And shout and wonder at His grace, 
Through all eternity ! 



MY GOD, I WAIT FOR THEE. 



Nathan Colver. 



During his tedious sickness, in a night of unrest, when sleep had fled his pillow, 
Dr. Colver, of Chicago, sought relief by writing the following song of the night. 

MY God, I wait for Thee ; 
My work on earth seems done ; 
I long my Father's face to see, 
Nor less Thine only Son. 

. My God, I wait for Thee ; 
My time of toil is o'er ; 
There is a rest remains for me 
On Canaan's happy shore. 

My God, I wait for Thee ; 

O, when will Jesus come ? 
A mansion is prepared for me ; 

Haste, Lord, and take me home. 

My God, I wait for Thee, 

Nor murmur at my pains ; 
But long with Christ to soar away, 

Where Light eternal reigns. 

35 











546 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

My God, I wait for Thee, 
To end this mortal strife ; 

Why should Thy chariot long delay 
To bring immortal life ? 



ONLY WAITING. 

ONLY waiting till the shadows 
Are a little longer grown ; 
Only waiting till the glimmer 

Of the day's last beam is flown ; 
Till the night of earth is faded 

From the heart, once full of day ; 
Till the stars of heaven are breaking 
Through the twilight soft and grey. 

Only waiting till the reapers 

Have the last sheaf gathered home ; 
For the summer-time is faded, 

And the autumn winds have come. 
Quickly, reapers! gather quickly 

The last ripe hours of my heart ; 
For the bloom of life is withered, 

And I hasten to depart. 

Only waiting till the angels 
Open wide the mystic gate, 

At whose feet I long have lingered, 
Weary, poor and desolate ; 






A 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 547 

Even now I hear the footsteps, 

And their voices far away ; 
If they call me, I am waiting, 

Only waiting to obey. 

Only waiting till the shadows 

Are a little longer grown ; 
Only waiting till the glimmer 

Of the day's last beam is flown ; 
Then from out the gathering darkness 

Holy, deathless stars shall rise, 
By whose light my soul shall gladly 

Tread its pathway to the skies. 



I'VE BEEN THINKING OF HOME. 

I'VE been thinking of home, of " my Father's house, 
Where the many mansions be," 
Of the city whose streets are paved with gold, 
Of its jasper walls, so fair to behold, 
Which the righteous alone shall see. 

I've been thinking of home, where they need not the 
light 

Of the sun, nor moon, nor star; 
Where the gates of pearl " are not shut by day, 
For no night is there," but the weary may 

Find rest from the world afar. 







548 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

['ve been thinking of home, of the river of life 

That flows through the city so pure ; 
Of the tree that stands by the side of the stream, 
Whose leaves in mercy with blessings teem, 
The sin-wounded soul to cure. 

I've been thinking of home, of the loved ones there, 

Dear friends who have gone before. 
With whom we walked to the death-river side, 
And sadly thought, as we watched the tide, 

Of the happy days of yore. 

I've been thinking of home, and my heart is full 

Of love for the Lamb of God, 
Who His precious life as a ransom gave 
For a simple race, e'en our souls to save 

From justice's avenging rod. 

I've been thinking of home, and I'm homesick now ; 

My spirit doth long to be 
In " the better land," where the ransomed sing 
Of the love of Christ, their Redeemer, King, 

Of mercy so costly, so free. 

I've been thinking of home, yea, "home, sweet 
home ;" 

O, there may we all unite 
With the white-robed throng, and forever raise 
To the triune God sweetest songs of praise, 

With glory, and honor, and might ! 





Ill- 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 549 



SITTING ON THE SHORE. 



Dinah Maria Mulock Craik. S' 



THE tide has ebb'd away: 
No more wild dashings 'gainst the adamant 
rocks, 
Nor swaying amidst sea-weed false that mocks 
The hues of garden gay ; 
No laugh of little wavelets at their play ; 
No lucid pools reflecting heaven's clear brow: 
Both storm and calm alike are ended now. 

The rocks sit grey and lone ; 
The shifting sand is spread so smooth and dry, 
That not a tide might ever have swept by, 

Stirring it with rude moan ; 

Only some weedy fragments idly thrown 
To rot beneath the sky, tell what has been ; 
But Desolation's self has grown serene. 

After the mountains rise, 
And the broad estuary widens out, 
All sunshine ; wheeling round and round about 

Seaward, a white bird flies ; 

A bird ? Nay, seems it rather in these eyes 
A spirit, o'er Eternity's dim sea 
Calling—" Come thou where all we glad souls be.'' 










55° HEAVEN IN SONG. 

O life, O silent shore, 
Where. we sit patient : O great sea beyond, 
To which we turn with solemn hope and fond, 

But sorrowful no more ; 

But little while, and then we too shall soar 
Like white-wing'd sea-birds in the Infinite Deep : 
Till then, Thou, Father, wilt our spirits keep. 




THE GOLDEN GATES APPEAR. 

" IV /T Y Father's house on high, 

1VA Home of my soul, — how near, 
At times, to Faith's foreseeing eye 
Thy golden gates appear. 

" Oh ! then my spirit faints 

To reach the land I love, 
The bright inheritance of saints, 

Jerusalem above." 



A LITTLE LONGER YET. 



From the Christian Register. 



A LITTLE longer yet, a little longer 
Shall violets bloom for thee and sweet birds sing, 
And the lime branches, where soft winds are blowing, 
Shall murmur the sweet promise of the spring. 





A 



T" 1 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 551 

A little longer yet, a little longer, 

Thou shalt behold the quiet of the morn, 

While tender grasses, and awakening flowers, 
Send up a golden tint to greet the dawn. 

A little longer yet, a little longer, 

The tenderness of twilight shall be thine, 

The rosy clouds that float o'er dying daylight, 
Nor fade till trembling stars begin to shine. 

A little longer yet, a little longer, 

Shall starry night be beautiful to thee, 

And the cold moon shall look through the blue silence, 
Flooding her silver path upon the sea. 

A little longer yet, a little longer, 

Life shall be thine — life with its power to will, 
Life with its strength to bear, to love, to conquer, 

Bringing its thousand joys thy heart to fill. 

A little longer yet, a little longer, 

The voices thou hast loved shall charm thine ear, 
And thy true heart, that now beats quick to hear them, 

A little longer yet, shall hold them dear. 

A little longer still, patience, beloved : 

A little longer still, ere Heaven unroll 
The glory, and the brightness, and the wonder, 

Eternal and divine, that waits thy soul. 

A little longer, ere Life, true, immortal, 

(Not this our shadowy life) will be thine own ; 

And thou shalt stand where winged archangels worship, 
And trembling bow before the Great White Throne. 





j££ 




552 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

A little longer still, and Heaven awaits thee, 
To fill thy spirit with a great delight ; 

Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten, 
Our sun a darkness, and our'day a night. 

A little longer, and thy heart, beloved, 
Shall beat forever with a love divine ; 

And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal, 

No mortal knows and lives, shall then be thine. 

A little longer yet, and angel voices 

Shall break in heavenly chant upon thine ear ; 

Angels and saints await thee, and God needs thee ; 
Beloved, can we keep thee longer here ? 



I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY. 



W. A. Muhlenberg. 



[The following is the original of the entire poem of which a part is familiar.] 

I WOULD not live alway, — live alway below! 
O, no ! I'll not linger, when bidden to go. 
The days of our pilgrimage granted us here 
Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. 
Would I shrink from the path which the prophets of 

God, 
Apostles, and martyrs, so joyfully trod? 
While brethren and friends are all hastening home, 
Like a spirit unblest on the earth would I roam ? 



^ 







WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 



553 



I would not live alway ; — I ask not to stay, 
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way ; 
Where, seeking for peace we but hover around, 
Like the patriarch's bird, and no resting is found ; 
Where hope, when she paints her gay bow on the air, 
Leaves its brilliance to fade in the night of despair, 
And joy's fleeting angel ne'er sheds a glad ray, 
Save the gleam of the plumage that bears him away. 

I would not live alway, — thus fettered by sin, 
Temptation without, and corruption within ; 
In a moment of strength if I sever the chain, 
Scarce the victory is mine ere I'm captive again. 
E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, 
And my cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears : 
The festival trump calls for jubilant songs, 
But my spirit her own miserere prolongs. 

I would not live alway, — no, welcome the tomb ; 

Immortality's lamp burns there bright 'mid the gloom ; 

There, too, is the pillow where Christ bowed his head ; 

O, soft are the slumbers on that holy l>ed ! 

And then the glad dawn soon to follow that night, 

When the sunrise of glory shall beam on my sight, 

When the full matin song, as the sleepers arise 

To shout in the morning, shall peal through the skies. 

Who, who would live alway ? away from his God, 
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, 
Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, 
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns ; 






Jig 




554 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, 
Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet, 
While the songs of salvation unceasingly roll, 
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul. 

That heavenly music ! what is it I hear? 

The notes of the harpers ring sweet in the air : 

And see, soft unfolding those portals of gold ; 

The King all arrayed in his beauty behold ! 

O, give me, 0, give me the wings of a dove ! 

Let me hasten my flight to those mansions above ; 

Ay, 't is now that my soul on swift pinions would soar, 

And in ecstacy bid earth adieu evermore. 



NEAR TO THE PORT. 



Anonymous. 



A 



N aged man, by sorrow bowed, 
Looked on the sky without a cloud, 



And hailed, as from his couch he rose, 
Another day of pure repose. 

The echoes of the Sabbath bell 
Upon his chastened spirit fell. 

He trod, with low and reverent air 
The consecrated aisles of prayer ; 

And felt a glory from above, 
Descending as a Heavenly Dove. 





-J^ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 555 

O, unto him no place so sweet, 
As sitting at his Master's feet ; 

For foretastes wonderful were given, 
Of the Sabbatic rest of Heaven ; 

And his heart cried, " Dear Lord, how long 
Ere I shall sing the conqueror's song? " 

The wish had but escaped his breast, 
When visions of his longed-for rest 

Came to him, with o'erpowering might, 
And thrilled him with excess of light. 

He felt the mortal man give way, 
The spirit loosened from its clay ; 

And cried again, " Dear Lord, is this 
The entrance into perfect bliss ! " 

And, as the pearly gates swung wide, 

" Near TO THE Port," he breathed, and died. 

Near TO THE Port ! O, mariner, 
The message does my spirit stir ; 

And my heart cries, " Dear Lord, how long 
Ere I may sing the heavenly song ? — 

Ere the rough voyage of life be past, 
And I anchor in the Port at last ? " 






A 



556 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



AH, THIS HEART IS VOID AND CHILL. 



From the German of C. J. P. Spitta, by Gerald Massey. 



AH ! this heart is void and chill, 
'Mid earth's noisy thronging — 
For the Father's mansion still 
Vehemently is longing! 

In the garments once so strong 
Now are rents distressing; 

And the sandals borne so long 
Heavily are pressing. 

Ah ! to be at home, and gain 
All for which we're sighing— 

From all earthly want and pain 
To be swiftly flying ! 

With this load of sin and care, 

Then no longer bending, 
But with waiting angels, there, 

On our Lord attending! 

Ah ! how greatly blessed they 
Who have rightly striven, 

And rejoice eternally 

With the Lord, in Heaven ! 






jtn 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 557 



KEEP ME NOT HERE A VOICE IS CALLING. 



George Burrowes. 



" Let me go for the day breaketh." 

KEEP me not here! A voice from heaven is call- 
ing, 
Arise, my love, my fair one, come away ; 
Unearthly light around my soul is falling, 
The glory — dawn of heaven's eternal day. 

Keep me not here ! Amid that light descending, 
Angels an escort stand in bright array ; 

A choral welcome harps and voices blending. 

They point to heaven — " Arise and come away ! " 

Keep me not here ! Far on yon heavenly mountain 
Of frankincense and myrrh, till break of day, 

Is He awaiting me by life's pure fountain, — 
Give me an angel's wings to soar away. ■ 

Keep me not here ! The vale of death is glowing, 
Its shades and terrors lighted into day ; 

The saints in light with wreaths triumphal strewing 
Its fearful path, are beckoning me away. 

Keep me not here ! My deepest spirit gushing 
With glowing love to Jesus, bursts this clay ; 

Love's deep-toned calmness, sin's last tremor hushing, 
Can rest not here on earth, away ! away ! 








558 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Keep me not here ! Around my soul is falling 

Heaven's mantling robe of love, heaven's boundless 
day; 

I hear a voice from heaven — 'tis Jesus calling, 
Arise, my love, my fair one, come away. 



THE STRANGE SURPRISE. 



Dwight Williams. 



A little while, and ye shall not see me : and again a little while, and ye shall see 
me ; because I go to the Father." 



"A 



LITTLE while," 
Lone pilgrim hear the word 
Of thy dear absent Lord ; 
He said thou shouldst not see him for a while, 

The dark defile 
Of life doth briefly hide his tender smile. 

" A little while,'' 
The veil may intervene, 
And darkness hang between 
The form thou lovest and thy weary eyes; 

The mists will rise, 
And that will be a sweet and strange surprise. 

" A little while," 
And life's dark passing storm, 
Shall change to sunlight warm, 
And all with these shall be eternal calm, 

And angel psalm 
Shall on thy spirit pour its healing balm. 







jffc 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. • 559 

" A little while," 
And thou shalt strangely hear, 
The accents soft and clear, 
Of olden voices ring familiarly, 
And O to thee, 
How sweet will those glad words of welcome be. 

" A little while," 
And softly gliding out 
From this dark sea of doubt, 
Thy thought will rise and wing its easy flight 

Through paths of light, 
And thou shalt look upon the Infinite. 

"A little while," 
Thy weary pilgrim feet 
Upon the golden street 
Will stand, and down the shining avenue, 

With radiance new, 
Thine own eternal mansion thou shalt view. 

" A little while," 
Pursue the way of faith, 
Though toilsome be the path ; 
Some day the darksome haze will vanish quite, 

And on the sight, 
Celestial morn will drop its changeless light. 



h 







■3jj% 




560 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



O, ANGEL OF THE LAND OF PEACE. 



Mrs. C. M. Sawyer. 



O ANGEL of the land of peace, 
When wilt thou ever come for me ? 
I fain would be where sorrows cease, 
I dread no more thy kind release, 
I wait for thee. 

Sleep shuns mine eyes — mine inner sight 

Is turning dimly heavenward, 
To that far off land of love and light, 
Where angels all the silent night 
Earth's children guard. 

My yearning soul would fain demand, 

O, holy angels, pure and blest, 
Where, 'mid yon happy, shining band, 
In all the heavenly Fatherland, 
My lost ones rest ! 

Thou, who alone, when man forgets 
His heavenly innocence, and fell, 
Still pitying, lingered round the spot 
To soothe the anguish of his lot — 
Thou, Thou canst tell ! 







A" 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 561 

For Thou, with sweet and loving smile, 
Didst gently lure them to Thy breast, 
And bear them for this world of guile, 
Thy pale, pure angel lips the while 
Upon them prest. 

Dark grew my soul — till down the air 

Thy seraph-smile upon me fell ! 
And then I knew, from sin and care, 
That Thou my little ones didst bear 
With God to dwell ! 

O, angel of the land of peace ! 

When wilt Thou ever come for me ? 
I fain would be where sorrows cease ; 
I dread no more Thy kind release : 
I wait for Thee ! 



LONGING FOR THE FATHERLAND. 



Marianne Farningham. 



LONGING evermore for the Fatherland above, 
Where the unquiet yearning heart shall have 
enough of love : 
Longing for the evergreens on the everlasting hills — 
Longing for the happy land where there are no more 
chills : 







ite- 




562 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Longing for the safety of the blessed home in heaven, 
Longing for the rest to the weary pilgrim given, 
Longing for the Saviour's voice to welcome me above. 
Longing for the Father's smile of kind forgiving love. 



HEART-SICK WITH HOPE DEFERRED. 



Christina G. Rossetti. 




THIS Advent moon shines cold and clear, 
These Advent nights are long ; 
Our lamps have burned year after year, 

And still their flame is strong. 
Watchman, what of the night ? we cry, 

Heart-sick with hope deferred : 
No speaking signs are in the sky — 
Is still the watchman's word. 

The porter watches at the gate, 

The servants watch within; 
The watch is long betimes and late, 

The prize is slow to win : 
Watchman, what of the night ? But still 

His answer sounds the same — 
No daybreak tops the utmost hill, 

Nor pale our lamps of flame. 

One to another hear them speak 

The patient Virgins wise— 
Surely He is not far to seek ; 

All night we watch and rise ; 





-it!; 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 563 

The days are evil looking back, 

The coming days are dim ; 
Yet count we not His promise slack, 

But watch and wait for Him. 



One with another, soul with soul, 

They kindle fire from fire: 
Friends watch us who have touched the goal ; 

They urge us — " come up higher ;" 
With them shall rest our waysore feet, 

With them is built our home, 
With Christ — they sweet, but He most sweet, 

Sweeter than honevcomb. 



There no more parting, no more pain, 

The distant ones brought near, 
The lost so long are found again, 

Long lost but longer dear : 
Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, 

Nor heart conceived that rest, 
With them our good things long deferred, 

With Jesus Christ our best. 

We weep because the night is long, 

We laugh for day shall rise, 
We sing a slow contented song 

And knock at Paradise : 
Weeping we hold Him fast, Who wept 

For us, we hold Him fast ; 
And will not let Him go except 

He bless us first or last. 







M 




564 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Weeping we hold Him fast to-night ; 

We will not let Him go 
Till daybreak smite our wearied sight 

And summer smite the snow: 
Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove 

Shall coo the livelong day ; 
Then He shall say — Arise ! My love, 

My fair one, come away ! 



MY SPIRIT WAITING STANDS. 



Isaac Watts. 



THERE is a house not made with hands, 
Eternal, and on high ; 
And here my spirit waiting stands 
Till God shall bid it fly. 

Shortly this prison of my clay 

Must be dissolved and fall ; 
Then, O my soul, with joy obey 

Thy heavenly Father's call. 

'Tis He, by His almighty grace, 

That forms thee fit for heaven, 
And, as an earnest of the place, 

Has His own Spirit given. 

We walk by faith of joys to come ; 

Faith lives upon His word ; 
But while the body is our home, 

We're absent from the Lord. 







-A 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 565 

'Tis pleasant to believe Thy grace, 

But we had rather see ; 
We would be absent from the flesh, 

And present, Lord, with Thee. 



THIS DARK WORLD, AND THAT BRIGHT 
LAND. 

EARTH, with all its sin and sadness, 
Pain and sickness, grief and care ; 
Heaven, with its unspoken gladness, 
Light and love, and all that's fair ; 
How the two contrasted stand — 
This dark world, and that bright land. 

Here the eye grows dim with weeping, 
Here the cheek is wan with woe, 

For the loved ones who are sleeping, 
For the hopes that are laid low ; 

In the light of heaven's ray, 

Tears of earth are wiped away. 

Here our toilsome way pursuing, 
Compass'd round with many foes ; 

Pleasures are not worth the wooing, 
Thorns are found with every rose ; 

There — the sorrowful are blest ; 

There — the weary are at rest. 







Jfg. 




566 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Here a lonely watch we're keeping 

On the battle-plain of life, 
Lest the foe should find us sleeping, 

And unfitted for the strife ; 
There the war and conflict cease, 
Heaven's atmosphere is peace. 

Here our painful cross we're bearing, 
Where our Master leads the way 

Here the shame and grief we're sharing, 
That for us upon Him lay ; 

There we lay our burden down, 

Change the cross into the crown. 

Here the parting word is spoken, 
Where our hearts the closest cling, 

And upon the spirit broken, 
Like a knell its accents ring ; 

There, before the Saviour's throne, 

Parting is a word unknown. 



O LAND UNKNOWN, IN THEE ALONE. 



Samuel Willoughby Duffiei.d. 



A LITTLE song has come to me, 
A strain of sadness from over sea ; 
And I hear its music, and love it well, 
Though the heart that framed it I cannot tell. 




jgy 



4^ 



WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 567 

A little picture comes to me, 
A dash of brightness from over sea ; 
There are clasping hands and a holy face — 
But the name of the artist who can trace ? 

So I, in faith which comes to me, 

Believe in a land across the sea, 

Where my vaguest fancies may stand supreme, 

In a grand perfection beyond my dream. 

O land unknown ! in thee alone 

Shall formless lyrics to shape be grown ; 

In thee all rhapsody riseth true, 

And the thoughts of beauty are ever new. 

O land unknown ! where all is best ; 
In thee is my aspiration blest ; 
For I toil and tarry until I may 
With my broken sentences pass away. 



WHEN SHALL THE DAWN OF DAY. 



Anonymous. 



WHEN shall the dawn of day 
Welcome me home ? 
When o'er the pleasant way 

My footsteps roam ? 

When where the angels sing, 

Shall I my treasures bring, 

Borne on the seraph's wing, 

Borne to my home? 







5 68 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 

When shall the gates of gold 

Open for me, 
Into the Shepherd's fold, 

Happy and free ? 
Far from a world of care, 
Jesus my Saviour near; 
Angels of glory there 

1 long to see. 

When shall the dawn of day 

Guide me afar — 
Where beams, in ho)y light, 

The risen star ? 
Where Christ shall still be mine, 
Where endless glories shine, 
Where sorrow, joy divine, 

Never can mar. 

When shall the dawn of day 
Welcome me home? 

When o'er the pleasant way 
My footsteps roam ? 

When where the angels sing. 

Shall I my treasures bring, 

Borne on the seraph's wing. 
Borne to my home? 






J& 



WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 



569 



O SWEET HOME-ECHO ON THE PILGRIM'S 

WAY. 



Mrs. Dr. Meta Heusser-Schweizer, [the sweet evangelical singer of Switzerland]. 
Translated by Jane Borthwick. 



. "And so shall we ever be with the Lord." 

O SWEET home-echo on the pilgrim's way, 
Thrice welcome message from a land of light ! 
As through a clouded sky the moonbeams stray, 

So on eternity's deep shrouded night 
Streams a mild radiance, from that cheering word ; 
" So shall we be forever with the Lord." 

At home with Jesus? He who went before, 
For His own people mansions to prepare ; 

The soul's deep longings stilled, its conflicts o'er, 
All rest and blessedness with Jesus there. 

What home like this can the wide earth afford? 
" So shall we be forever with the Lord" 

With Him all gathered! to that blessed home, 
Through all its windings, still the pathway tends; 

While ever and anon bright' glimpses come 
Of that fair city where the journey ends. 

Where all of bliss is centred in one word : 
" So shall we be forever with the Lord/' 






^ 




570 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Here, kindred hearts are severed far and wide, 
By many a weary mile of land and sea, 

Or life's all-varied cares and paths divide ; 
But yet a joyful gathering shall be, 

The broken links repaired, the lost restored, 
" So shall we be forever with the Lord." 

And is there ever perfect union here ? 

Ah ! daily sins, lamented and confessed, 
They come between us and the friends most dear, 

They mar our blessedness and break our rest. 
With life we leave the evils long deplored : 

" So shall we be forever with the Lord." 

All prone to error, none set wholly free 

From the old serpent's soul-ensnaring chain, 

The truths one child of God can clearly see, 
He seeks to make his brother feel in vain ; 

But all shall harmonize in heaven's full chord : 
" So shall we be forever with the Lord." 

O blessed promise ! mercifully given, 

Well may it hush the wail of earthly woe ; 

O'er the dark passage to the gates of heaven 
The light of love and resurrection throw ! 

Thanks for the blessed, life-inspiring word : 
" So shall we be forever with the Lord." 



^ 





2&. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 5/1 



MY TASK IS O'ER, MY WORK IS DONE. 



From Parish Musings. 



MY task is o'er, my work is done, 
And spent the weary day ; 
I've fought the fight, the battle's won, 

And I must haste away ; 
Henceforth there is laid up for me 
A crown, through all eternity. 

A crown by hands eternal wove, 

Meet for a child of God — 
Gemmed with the jewels of His love, 

And purchased by His blood : 
Which human hands could ne'er have wrought 

And human merit ne'er have bought. 

Farewell the cross 'neath which so long 

I've watched and fought below ; 
And welcome now the harp and song 

That wait me where I go ; 
Yet, oh, that cross must still be dear, 
Though borne through many a sorrow here. 

And oft throughout eternity, 

'Mid all that's bright and blest, 
Its victory my joy shall be, 

And I will love it best : 
For 'twas through Him who died thereon 
My fight was fought, my battle won. 





-M 



572 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



DAY OF THE BEAUTIFUL, ARISE, AWAKE! 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



TO dream a troubled dream, and then awaken 
To the soft gladness of a summer sky ; 
To dream ourselves alone, unloved, forsaken, 

And then to wake 'mid smiles, and love, and joy ! 

To look at evening on the storm's rude motion, 
The cloudy tumult of the fretted deep; 

And then at day-burst upon that same ocean, 
Soothed to the stillness of its stillest sleep ! 

So runs our course — so tells the church her story, 

So to the end shall it be ever told ; 
Brief shame on earth, hut after shame the glory, 

That wanes not, dims not, never waxes old. 

Lord Jesus, come, and end this troubled dreaming ! 

Dark shadows vanish, rosy twilight break ! 
Morn of the true and real, burst forth, calm-beaming! 

Day of the beautiful, arise, awake ! 







jt|£- 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 5/3 



THE LEAVES AROUND ME FALLING. 



Henry Francis Lyte. 

THE leaves around me falling 
Are preaching of decay ; 
The hollow winds are calling, 

" Come, pilgrim, come away ! " 

The day, in night declining, 

Says, I must too decline : 

The year its life resigning — 

Its lot foreshadows mine. 

The light my path surrounding, 

The loves to which I cling, 
The hopes within me bounding, 

The joys that round me wing — 
All melt, like stars of even 

Before the morning's ray, 
Pass upward into Heaven, 

And chide at my delay. 

The friends gone there before me 

Are calling from on high, 
And joyous angels o'er me 

Tempt sweetly to the sky. 
" Why wait," they say, "and wither, 

'Mid scenes of death and sin? 
O rise to glory hither, 

And find true life begin." 







574 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

I hear the invitation, 

And fain would rise and come,- 
A sinner to salvation; 

An exile to his home : 
But while I here must linger, 

Thus, thus, let all I see 
Point on, with faithful finger, 

To Heaven, O Lord, and Thee. 



STANDING ON THE HEADLANDS. 



From Leaves Gathered. 



LONG in this wild, wild country, 
Where rue and nightshade grow, 
Where waters black and bitter, 
All fairest meads o'erflow. 

Where from the heart all broken 
Floats forth a wailing cry ; 
And days are dark and dreary, 
And years drift sadly by. 

Where skies are grey and stormy ; 

And mountains bleak and cold 
Look down on wintry ocean, 

On barren heath and wold. 

Long, in this sinful country, 
I've wandered poor and lorie ; 

To every illness subject, 
To every weakness prone. 






jg£ 





WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 575 

Now, standing on the headlands, 

I greet the coming dawn ; 
Mine eyes drink in the glory 

Of the approaching morn. 

I see my dear loved Saviour, 

Clad in the purest white, — 
And sky and earth and headland 

Are bathed in golden light. 

This earth is fading from me, 

No more the wild winds sigh ; 
No more the days, all dreary, 

Go drifting sadly by. 

But, watching my Lord's coming, 

With loving, trusting faith, 
I fold my hands — so weary — 

And calmly wait — for death. 

O blessed, blessed country ! 

No pains, nor bitter tears ; 
No fainting 'neath the burden, 

No doubts — no cruel fears. 

O bright, unchanging glory ! 

O radiant array ! 
O sweet and dream-like music ! 

O cloudless, endless day! 



A- 




^76 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



O WHAT A GLAD ASCENDING. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



I LOVE yon pale blue sky ; it is the floor 
Of that glad home where I shall shortly be ; 
A home from which I shall go out no more ; 
From toil and grief and vanity set free. 

I gaze upon yon everlasting arch, 

Up which the bright stars wander, as they shine ; 
And as I mark them in their nightly march, 

I think how soon that journey shall be mine ! 

Yon silver drift of silent cloud, far up 

In the still heaven — through you my pathway lies ; 
Yon rugged mountain-peak — how soon your top 

Shall I behold beneath me, as I rise ! 

Not ma ly more of life's slow-pacing hours, 
Shaded with sorrow's melancholy hue ; — 

Oh, what a glad ascending shall be ours, 
Oh, what a pathway up yon starry blue ! 

A journey like Elijah's, swift and bright, 
Caught gently upward to an early crown, 

In heaven's own chariot of unblazing light, 
With death untasted and the grave unknown ! 





<4 



yfe^ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 577 



UP TO THAT WORLD OF LIGHT. 

" Then face to face." 

WHEN shall we meet again, — 
Meet ne'er to sever? 
When will Peace wreathe her chain 

Round us forever ? 
Our hearts will ne'er repose 
Safe from each blast that blows, 
In this dark vale of woes, 
Never, — no, never ! 

When shall love freely flow 

•Pure as Life's river ? 
When shall sweet friendship glow, 

Changeless forever ? 
Where joys celestial thrill, 
Where bliss each heart shall fill, 
And fears of parting chill 

Never, — no never ! 

Up to that world of light 

Take us, dear Saviour: 
May we all there unite, 

Happy forever ! 
Where kindred spirits dwell, 
There may our music swell, 
And time our joys dispel 

Never, — no, never! 
37 






4& 



578 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



WHEN I AM OVER JORDAN. 



Anonymous. 



TOSSED on the billows far and wide, 
And struggling 'gainst a whelming tide, 
When shall I to the haven come, 
And moor my bark, and see my home ? 
When I am over Jordan ! 

When shall I see my sins all slain ? 
When shall I see my Saviour reign 
Victorious o'er these fears of mine, 
Which dare His boundless love confine? 
When I am over Jordan ! 

When shall I see Him face to face, 
And find a blessed resting-place ? 
And hide me where His people hide, 
Who have been washed and purified ? 
When I am over Jordan ! 

When shall my falt'ring tongue confess 
The wonders of His righteousness ? 
And sing the song the ransomed raise, 
Dearer than angels' loftiest praise ? 
When I am over Jordan ! 





^ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. $79 

Here, cast about, and faint and weak, 
Dumb when I would His praises speak; 
There shall my voice ring out on high, 
Till heaven's wide arches give reply — 
When I am over Jordan ! 



THE STRANGER SEA-BIRD. 



HORATIUS BONAR, 



FAR from his breezy home of cliff and billow, 
Yon sea-bird folds his wing ; 
Upon the tremulous bough of this stream-shading 
willow 
He stays his wandering. 

Fanned by fresh leaves, and soothed by blossoms 
closing, 

His lullaby the stream, 
A stranger, in bewildered loneliness reposing, 

He dreams his ocean-dream : — 

His dream of ocean-haunts, and ocean-brightness, 

The rock, the wave, the foam, 
The blue above, beneath, the sea-cloud's trail of white- 
ness, 

His unforgotten home. 

And he would fly, but cannot, for the shadows 

Of night have barred his way ; 
How could he search a path across these woods and 
meadows 

To his far sea-home spray? 







^ 



580 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Dark miles of thicket, swamp, and moorland dreary, 

Forbid his hopeless flight; 
With plumage soiled, eye dim, heart faint, and wing 
all weary, 
He waits for sun and light. 

And I, in this far land, a timid stranger, 

Resting by Time's lone stream, 
Lie dreaming, hour by hour, beset with night and 
danger, 

The Church's Patmos-dream : 

The dream of home possessed,, and all home's glad- 
ness, 

Beyond these unknown hills, 
Of solace after earth's sore days of stranger-sadness, 

Beside the eternal rills. 

Life's exile past, all told its broken story ; 

Night, death, and evil gone ; 
This more than Egypt-shame exchanged for Canaan 
glory, 

And the bright city won ! 

Come then, O Christ ! earth's Monarch and Redeemer, 

Thy glorious Eden bring, 
Where I, even I, at last, no more a trembling dreamer, 

Shall fold my heavy wing. 





^K 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 581 



AH ! HOW EMPTY IS THE HEART. 



From the German of C. J. P. Spitta, by Richard Massie. 



AH ! how empty is the heart 
In the midst of pleasure, 
And how fain would we depart 
To our heavenly treasure. 

Threadbare now our garb with age, 

Still repair is needing, 
And our feet with pilgrimage 

Painful are and bleeding. 

Gladly would we be at home, 
Free from toil and dangers, 

And no longer houseless roam 
In a land of strangers ; 

Gladly lay aside the load 
Which our flesh inherits, 

Worshipping and serving God 
With the ransomed spirits. - 

But since Thou dost yet delay 

To Thyself to take us, 
Lord, prepare us while we stay, 

Meet for heaven make us. 






A 




582 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Richly shall we then be blest, 
When, our warfare ending, 

We enjoy the promised rest, 
With our Lord ascending. 



HEAVENWARD DOTH OUR JOURNEY 
TEND. 



From Schmolk,. Translated' by Caroline Winkworth. 



HEAVENWARD doth our journey tend, 
We are strangers here on earth, 
Through the wilderness we wend 

Towards the Canaan of our birth. 
Here we roam a pilgrim band, 
Yonder is our native land. 

Heavenward stretch, my soul, thy wings, 
Heavenly nature canst thou claim, 

There is nought of earthly things 
Worthy to be all thine aim ; 

Every soul whom God inspires, 

Back to Him its Source aspires. 

Heavenward ! doth His Spirit cry, 
When I hear Him in His Word, 

Showing thus the rest on high, 
Where I shall be with my Lord : 

When His Word fills all my thought, 

Oft to heaven my soul is caught. 









WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 

Heavenward ever would I haste, 
When Thy Table, Lord, is spread ; 

Heavenly strength on earth I taste, 
Feeding on the Living Bread. 

Such is e'en on earth our fare 

Who Thy marriage feast shall share. 

Heavenwards! Faith discerns the prize 

That is waiting us afar, 
And my heart would swiftly rise, 

High o'er sun and moon and star, 
To that Light behind the veil 
Where all earthly splendors pale. 

Heavenward Death shall lead at last, 
To the home where I would be, 

All my sorrows overpast, 

I shall triumph there with Thee, 

Jesus, who hast gone before, 

That we too might Heavenwards soar. 



.83 



Heavenwards! Heavenwards! Only 
Is my watchword on the earth; 

For the love of heavenly bliss 
Counting all things little worth. 

Heavenward all my being tends, 

Till in Heaven my journey ends. 



thi 



is 






58 4 




=& 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



A CITY YET TO COME. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



THIS is not my place of resting, 
Mine's a city yet to come ; 
Onwards to it I am hasting — 
On to my eternal home. 

In it all is light and glory, 

O'er it shines a nightless day ; 

Every trace of sin's sad story, 
All the curse, has passed away. 

There the Lamb, our Shepherd, leads us, 
By the streams of life along; 

On the freshest pastures feeds us, 
Turns our sighing into song. 

Soon we pass this desert dreary, 
Soon we bid farewell to pain ; 

Never more be sad or weary, 
Never, never sin again. 






^M 



4^ 



WAITING FOR HEAVP:N. 585 



O FOR THE CALM BEYOND THE STORMS. 



Anonymous. 



OH ! for the calm beyond the storms, 
In the presence of the Lord, 
Where with angels bright, 
Both day and night, 
We shall hear His sacred word ! 

Oh ! for the body free from pain, 
The spirit free from sin, 

Which He will give 

To the souls that live, 
Who shall dwell His courts within ! 

Oh ! for the joy no eye hath seen, 
No human heart hath known ! 

For faint and low 

Fall the echoes below 
Of the songs around His throne. 

But, oh ! for grace to serve Him here, 
To rest upon His love, 

To walk with God 

On our earthly road, 
And to anchor our joys above ! 









HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Oh ! for a faith to see the Lord 
Through darkness and through tears, 

To hear His voice, 

And still to rejoice, 
And watch till the day appears! 



GLIMPSES OF A HEAVENLY HOME. 



Anonymous. 



THERE come, sometimes, brightly beaming, 
Glimpses of a heavenly home, 
Beautiful as childhood's dreaming, 
Ere its feet have learned to roam — 

Radiant visions 
Of the land beyond the tomb. 

They come, sometimes, quickly streaming 

From the darkness of the soul, 
Like the fiery lightning, gleaming 

When the muttering thunders roll — 
Truthful ever 

As the needle to the pole. 

They come, sometimes, like the morning, 

Ushering in the perfect day ; 
Like the star, before the dawning, 

Of the sun's resplendent ray — 
Glorious vision, 

Lighting all life's weary way. 






-4k. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 587 

They come, sometimes, like the waving 
• Of his bright locks in the west, 
When the sun in glory laving, 
Sinks upon old ocean's breast — 

Happy visions 
Of a long and peaceful rest. 

They come, like the beacon glancing 
Through the tempest and the gloom, 

When the bark, in fury dancing, 
Reels before the howling storm, 

Guiding onward 
To a haven and a home. 

They come, like the tired bird winging 
From her sea-flight toward the land ; 

Like the shell that's always singing 
Of its native ocean strand, 

With the music 
Of the white wave on the sand. 

They come, gently, gently chiding 

When in devious paths we roam, 
Pointing oft and always guiding 

To our heavenly Father's home ; 
Upward, upward, 

Far above yon starry dome. 







.!&. 




588 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



NO SHADOWS YONDER. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



NO shadows yonder ! 
All light and song ! 
Each day I wonder, 
And say ! How long 
Shall time me sunder 
From that dear throng ? 

No weeping yonder! 
All fled away ; 
While here I wander 
Each weary day, 
And sigh as I ponder 
My long, long stay. 

No partings yonder ! 
Time and space never 
Again shall sunder ; 
Hearts cannot sever; 
Dearer and fonder 
Hands clasp forever. 

None wanting yonder, 
Bought by the Lamb ! 
All gathered under 
The evergreen palm ; 
Loud as night thunder 
Ascends the glad psalm. 







%. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 589 



AS WHEN THE TRAVELLER GAINS. 



John Newton. 



AS when the weary traveller gains 
The height of some o'erlooking hill, 
His heart revives, if 'cross the plains 
He eyes his home, though distant still. 

While he surveys the much-loved spot 
He slights the space that lies between ; 

His past fatigues are now forgot, 
Because his journey's end is seen. 

Thus when the Christian pilgrim views 
By faith his mansion in the skies, 

The sight his fainting strength renews, 
And wings his speed to reach the prize. 

The thought of home his spirit cheers ; 

No more he grieves for troubles past, 
Nor any future trial fears 

So he may safe arrive at last. 

'Tis there, he says, I am to dwell 
With Jesus in the realms of day ; 

Then I shall bid my cares farewell, 
And He shall wipe my tears away. 






A 




590 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Jesus, on Thee our hope depends, 
To lead us on to Thine abode : 

Assured our home will make amends 
For all our toil while on the road. 



HERE IN THE BODY PENT. 



James Montgomery. 



FOREVER with the Lord ! 
Amen ; so let it be ; 
Life from the dead is in that word, 
'Tis immortality. 

Here in the body pent, 
Absent from Him I roam, 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
A day's march nearer home. 

My Father's house on high, 
Home of my soul, how near, 
At times, to faith's far-seeing eye, 
Thy golden gates appear! 

Ah ! then my spirit faints 
To reach the land I love, 
The bright inheritance of saints, 
Jerusalem above. 

Yet clouds will intervene, 
And all my prospect flies, 
Like Noah's dove, I flit between 
Rough seas and stormy skies. 





^ 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 59 1 

Anon the clouds depart, 

The winds and waters cease, 
While sweetly o'er my gladdened heart, 
Expands the bow of peace. 



THE ANGEL AT THE GATE. 



C. F. Burrows. 



" This gate of the Lord, into which the righteous shall enter." 

THERE'S a gate at the close of the pathway of 
light 
That leads, it is said, to the land of the blest ; 
But the mists hide the country beyond from our sight, 

And over the portal is written " rest ;" 
And an angel with folded wings doth wait 
At the gate, at the gate. 

Those most beloved we have seen draw nigh, 
Till the portal's shadow is over them cast, 

And the angel has opened the gate with a sigh, 

And away, like a beautiful dream, they have passed. 

In vain have we watched for them, early and late, 
At the gate, at the gate. 

We have stretched out our hands to clasp theirs once 
again ; 
We have sought for those eyes that have answered 
our own : 
We've called on each loved name, so fondly, and then 
We have waited in vair or a look or a tone. 






jfe. 




592 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And we've mourned, as the lost dove mourns for its 
mate, 
At the gate, at the gate. 

And we know that we, too, soon the portal shall gain, 
And in the dark shadow shall lingering stand ; 

Our eyes gazing back on life's pleasure and pain, 
But our hands stretching out to that radiant land. 

We shall linger, it matters not sooner or late, 
At the gate, at the gate. 

And the angel will open the gate, and will guide 
Our wandering feet to the country of peace ; 

And with those we have loved we shall ever abide, 
And all our lone waitings, and watchings, shall cease 

Where the angel with folded wing doth wait, 
At the gate, at the gate. 



O WEARY HALTING PILGRIM. 



Anonymous. 



Thine eyes shall see the King in his beauty ; they shall behold the land that is 
very far off." 

OH, weary, halting pilgrim, 
Haste to thy quiet rest ; 
The sands of life are sinking, 
Hie to thy mountain nest ! 
See yonder sunset glory, 
Telling the wondrous story 
Of ages grey and hoary ! 







X&&. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 593 

Soon shalt thou reach that country 

Where shine the golden hills ; 
Where, through the still, green pastures, 
Glide softly-murmuring rills ; 

Yonder, pure airs are blowing; 
Fresh, gladsome streams are flowing, 
And radiant sunshine glowing. 

There winds the chill, dark river, 

Whose stern, relentless flow 
Beareth each soul full surely 
To endless bliss or woe ; 

There shall be cooled life's fever ; 
'Neath Jordan's waves forever, 
From pain and sin we sever. 

Just on the further border 

Of Death's swift flowing tide 
Riseth the holy city, 
Glorious on every side ! 

Of pearls, and jasper fairest, 

And chrysolite the rarest, 

The crown of light thou wearest. 

From yonder crystal portals, 

Where gleams eternal light, 

The King sends forth his angel 

To Beulah's sunny height ; 

Nearer the river streameth, 
Clearer the glory beameth, 
Fairer the city gleameth ! 
38 





V 




ate 




594 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Swiftly the white-robed angel, 

With noiseless, winged touch, 
Giveth the welcome summons ; 
" ' The Lord hath need of such ! ' 

Hear what thy King hath spoken ; 
Behold the royal token — 
The golden bowl is broken ! " 

The silver cord is loosened, 

Shattered the earthly shrine ; 
But Beulah's hill-tops echo 
With rhapsody divine ; 

In heaven no sin or sighing, 
No pain, nor any dying ; 
Angels with seraphs vieing. 

See ! where the glory streameth 

Upon the farther shore ; 
Bright shining ones are hymning 
The song of ages hoar ! 

In Salem's temple dwelling, 
The olden story telling, 
The eternal chorus swelling, 
For ever, evermore ! 




V/ 




A 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 595 



CHRIST, LET ME COME TO THEE. 

•' Bid me come unto Thee." 

CHRIST, let me come to Thee ! 
My heart is weary, and I long for rest. 
Is not my earthly mission well nigh done ? 
I cannot bear this burden on my breast — 

It weighs my spirit downward like a stone. 
My saddened life is ever veiled in clouds, 

And midnight darkness hath come o'er my soul. 
My once bright hopes are wrapped away in shrouds, 
And sorrow's heavy surges round me roll. 
Sweet Christ ? oh, may I come ? 

Christ, let me come to Thee ! 
Life hath a dark Sahara been to me ! 

The few bright flowers that bloomed along my way 
Were soon transplanted — each beloved tree 

To bloom perennial in the " perfect day." 
My dear loved ones sit round Thy Golden Throne 

And wait — a broken circle — till I come ; 
Let me not linger here on earth alone — 

Oh, let me join them in their heavenly home ! 
Sweet Christ ! oh, may I come ? 

Christ, let me come to Thee ! 
Behind me roars the angry ocean tide ; 

Each crested wave comes nearer, nearer still ; 
The muttering thunders in the billows hide — 

I shudder at their hoarse, loud voice so chill ; 







.qj&y 




596 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



I cannot meet the fierce, wild storm of Life ! 

I have no strength to battle with it more ! 
Too long I've wrestled in the painful strife, 

I must lay down the burden that I bore. 
Sweet Christ ! oh, may I come? 

Christ, let me come to Thee! 
In dreams I hear Thy white-robed angels sing 

The golden glories of their beauteous land ; 
I hear the rustle of each snowy wing, 

And feel their touch upon my fevered hand. 
Colder than ever seems the earth to me, 

When I awake and see them flit away ; 
I strain my eyes the last bright glimpse to see, 

And watch them vanish through the gates of day. 
Sweet Christ ! oh, may I come ? 

Christ, let me come to Thee ! 
I watch my toiling breath grow faint and s^ow ; 

I note the hectic deepening day by day, 
And feel my life is like a wreath of snow, 

Which one kind breath of heaven would melt away. 
A little longer in this world of vice — 

The wished-for boundary is almost passed — 
I see the shining shore of Paradise, 

I know my pain is almost o'er at last. 
Sweet Christ ! oh, let me come ! 

Christ, let me 'come to Thee ! 
I've seen the gates that guard Thy holy clime, 

And often caught a gleam within ; 
I know they'll open in Thine own good time, 

And let Thy weary wandering child come in. 





■*£*. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 597 

I've had, all through this weary care and pain, 
One blessed hope, that ne'er has known despair — 

It cheers me like the sunshine after rain ! 

I know Thou'lt hear my deep and heartfelt prayer, 
And let me come to Thee ! 



LORD GOD, NOW OPEN WIDE THY HEAVEN. 



From the German of T. Kiel by Catherine Winkvvorth. 




LORD God, now open wide Thy heaven, 
My parting hour is near ; 
My course is run, enough I've striven, 
Enough I've suffer' d here ; 
Weary and sad 
My soul is glad 
That she may lay her down to rest ; 
Now all on earth I can resign, 
But only let Thy heaven be mine. 

As Thou, Lord, hast commanded me, 

Have I with perfect faith 
Embraced my Saviour, and to Thee 
I calmly look in death ; 

With willing heart 
I hence depart, 
I hope to stand before Thy face : 
Yes, all on earth I can resign, 
If but Thy heaven at last be mine. 






-M- 




598 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Then let me go like Simeon 

In peace with Thee to dwell, 
For I commend me to Thy Son, 
And He will guard me well, 
And guide me straight 
To the golden gate ; 
And in this hope I calmly die ; 
Yes, all on earth I can resign, 
If but Thy heaven may now be mine. 



WHEN AT LAST THE HOUR IS COME. 



From the German of Spener, by Catherine Winkworth. 



WHEN now at last the hour is come, 
That I have long'd for many a time, 
When God with joy should call me home 

From this strange land, this wintry clime 
Thy victim, Death, escapes no more, 
The hour draws on when I shall be 
From all the bonds of earth set free, 
And life's long battle shall be o'er. 

To combat for His glory here 

The Father sent me forth ; — and lo ! 

The hour of victory draws near, 
And conquer'd now is every foe ; 

And I have borne me in the strife 
As true and fearless warriors ought, 
And bravely to the last have fought 

Through all the wars and woes of life. 



S; 





2&. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 599 

My cry, when rough the march and dark, 
Was, watch and strive till thou hast won, 

Press forward fearless to the mark ! 
As now, thank God, at last I've done. 

Now it is o'er, I cannot miss ; 

Through every danger to the death 
True to my Lord I've kept the faith, 

And freely risk'd all else for this. 

It lacketh now a few short hours, 

And I am in eternity ; 
The wreath of fadeless heavenly flowers 

Is wound already there for me, 
The crown is waiting for me there, 

Until the fight is wholly fought, 

And all my soul is thither caught, 
Where shining palms the conquerors bear. 

But when that morning shall appear. 

When our great Judge, the Son of God, 
Shall give to those who loved Him here 

Their gracious undeserved reward, 
Then in the glorious halls above, 

I too among that host shall stand, 

And take from His all-faithful hand 
The crown of righteousness and love. 

Nor shall I yonder stand alone, 

I see the crowned host appear, 
The mighty host before His throne, 

Who shine for ever pure and clear, 







j£g: 




600 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The souls of those, who on their way 
Were longing hour by hour here, 
With burning love, and many a tear, 

To see the glories of that Day. 

\ 



THE HOME SICKNESS. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 




" O civitas sancta civitas speciosa, de longinquo te saluto, ad te clamo, te re- 
quire" — Augustine, De Spir. et Anttn. 

AND Whence this weariness, 
This gathering cloud of gloom ? 
Whence this dull weight of loneliness, 

These greedy cravings for the tomb ? 
These greedier cravings for the hopes that lie 
Beyond the tomb, beyond the things that die ; 
Beyond the smiles and joys that come and go, 
Fevering the spirit with their fitful flow ; 
Beyond the circle where the shadows fall ; 
Within the region where my God is all. 

It is not that I fear 

To breast the storm or wrestle with the wave, 
To swim the torrent or the blast to brave, 
To toil or suffer in this day of strife 
As He may will who gave this struggling life, — 

But I am homesick! 






jfe 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 6oi 

It is not that the cross 

Is heavier than this drooping frame can bear, 
Or that I find no kindred heart to share 
The burden, which, in these last days of ill, 
Seems to press heavier, sharper, sorer still, — 

But I am homesick! 

It is not that the snare 

Is laid around for my unwary feet, 
And that a thousand wily tempters greet 
My slippery steps and lead me far astray 
From that safe guidance of the narrow way, — 

But I am homesick ! 

It is not that the path 

Is rough and perilous, beset with foes, 
From the first step down to its weary close, 
Strewn with the flint, the briar, and the thorn, 
That wound my limbs and leave my raiment torn, 

But I am homesick ! 

It is not that the sky 

Is darkly sad, and the unloving air 
Chills me to fainting ; and the clouds that there 
Hang over me seem signal clouds unfurled, 
Portending wrath to an unready world, — 

But I am homesick ! 

It is not that the earth 

Has grown less bright and fair, — that these grey 

hills, 
These ever-lapsing, ever-lulling rills, 






A 




602 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

And these breeze-haunted woods, that ocean clear, 
Have now become less beautiful, less dear, — 
But I am homesick ! 

Let me, then, weary be ! 

I shrink not, — murmur not ; 
In all this homelessness I see 

The Church's pilgrim-lot ; 
Her lot until her absent Lord shall come, 
And the long homeless here, shall find a home, 

Then no more weariness ! 

No gathering cloud of gloom ; 
Then no dull weight of loneliness, 

No greedy cravings for the tomb : 
For death shall then be swallowed up of life, 
And the glad victory shall end the strife ! 



WORLD FAREWELL, OF. THEE I'M TIRED. 



From the German oi J. G. Albinus, by Catherine Winkworth. 




WORLD, farewell ! Of thee I'm tired, 
Now toward heaven my way I take ; 
There is peace the long-desired, 

Lofty calm that nought can break ; 
World, with thee is war and strife, 
Thou with cheating hopes art rife, 
But in heaven is no alloy, 
Only peace and love and joy. 



I 





J^ 



WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 603 

When I reach that home of gladness, 

I shall feel no more this load, 
Feel no sickness, want, or sadness, 

Resting in the arms of God. 
In the world woes follow fast, 
And a bitter death comes last, 
But in heaven shall nought destroy 
Endless peace and love and joy. 

What are earthly joys ? a weary 

Chase of mist, or wind-borne foam ! 
On this desert black and dreary 

Sins and vices have their home ; 
Thine, O World, are war and strife, 
Mocking pleasures, dying life ; 
But in heaven is no annoy, 
Only peace and love and joy. 

Oh the music and the singing 

Of the host redeemed by love! 
Oh the hallelujahs ringing 

Through the halls of light above ! 
Thine, O World, the scornful sneer, 
Misery thy reward, and fear ; 
But in heaven is no annoy, 
Only peace and love and joy. 

Here is nought but care and mourning, 

Comes a joy, it will not stay ; 
Fairly shines the sun at dawning, 

Night will soon o'ercloud the day ; 







jfe 




604 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

World, with thee we weep and pine, 
Gnawing care and grief are thine ; 
But in heaven is no alloy, 
Only peace and love and joy. 

Onwards then ! not long I wander, 

Ere my Saviour comes for me, 
And with Him abiding yonder 

All His glory I shall see ; 
For there's nought but sorrow here, 
Toil and pain and many a fear, 
But in heaven is no annoy, 
Only peace and love and joy. 

Well for him whom death has landed 

Safely on yon blessed shore, 
Where in joyful worship banded, 

Sing the faithful evermore ; 
For the world hath strife and war, 
All her works and hopes they mar, 
But in heaven is no annoy, 
Only peace and love and joy. 

Time, thou speedest on but slowly, 

Hours, how tardy is your pace, 
Ere with Him the High and Holy 

I hold converse face to fact ; 
World, with partings thou art rife, 
Filled with tears and storms and strife, 
But in heaven can nought destroy, 
Endless peace and love and joy. 







x&%. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 6o = 

Therefore will I now prepare me, 
That my work may stand His doom, 

And when all is sinking round me, 
I may hear not " Go" — but " Come! " 

World, the voice of grief is here, 

Outward seeming, care, and fear, 

But in heaven is no alloy, 

Only peace and love and joy ! 



WHAT NOW WE KNOW NOT THEN TO 
KNOW. 



Anonymous. 



WHEN Israel reached their homes at last, 
And 'neath their vines and fig-trees lay, 
How sweetly, all their perils past, 

Must they have mused upon God's way ! 
What at the time seemed hard to bear 
Then could they clearly understand ; 
And how a Father's love and care 

Each portion of their wanderings planned. 

Thus, if we reach that heavenly place, 
No snare to fear, no wars to wage, 

Then shall we see how heavenly grace 
Led us throughout our pilgrimage : 






^ 




606 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

How needful was each care and cross 




How wisely our own way denied ; 
How mercy shielded us from loss ; 

How right the way, how true the Guide. 

How sweet to understand His way ; 

What now we know not then to know ; 
And yield the tribute of our praise 

For what mysterious seemed below ! 
Lord, lead us to that place of rest, 

And from our own fond will defend : 
Thou knowest what for us is best, 

Who knowest both the way and end. 



A FEW MORE YEARS SHALL ROLL. 



HORAT1US BONAR. 

A FEW more years shall roll, 
A few more seasons come. 
And we shall be with those that rest 

Asleep within the tomb. 
Then, O my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that great day ; 
Oh wash me in Thy precious blood, 
And take my sins away ! 

A few more suns shall set 
O'er these dark hills of time, 

And we shall be where suns are not, 
A far serener clime. 






•ill 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 607 

Then, O my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that blest day ; 
Oh wash me in Thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away ! 

A few more storms shall beat 

On this wild, rocky shore, 
And we shall be where tempests cease, 

And surges swell no more. 
Then, O my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that calm day ; 
Oh wash me in Thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 

A few more struggles here, 

A few more partings o'er, 
A few more toils, a few more tears, 

And we shall weep no more. 
Then, O my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that blest day ; 
Oh wash me in Thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 

A few more Sabbaths here 

Shall cheer us on our way, 
And we shall reach the endless rest, 

The eternal Sabbath-day. 
Then, O my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that sweet day ; 
Oh wash me in Thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 







A. 




608 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

'Tis but a little while, 

And He shall come again 
Who died that we might live, who lives 

That we with him may reign. 
Then, O my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that glad day ; 
Oh wash me in Thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 



THERE MAY WE OUR TREASURE PLACE. 



James Montgomery. 



" Our Conversation is in Heaven." 

\ T /HILE through this changing world we roam, 

V V From infancy to age, 
Heaven is the Christian pilgrim's home, 
His rest at every stage. 

Thither his raptured thought ascends, 

Eternal joys to share ; 
There his adoring spirit bends, 

While here he kneels in prayer. 

From earth his freed affections rise 

To fix on things above, 
Where all his hope of glory lies, 

And love is perfect love. 








WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 609 



Oh, there may we our treasure place ! 

There let our hearts be found, 
That still where sin abounded, grace 

May more and more abound ! 

Henceforth our conversation be 
With Christ before the throne : 

Ere long we eye to eye shall see, 
And know as we are known. 



THE SANDS OF TIME ARE SINKING. 



Samuel Rutherford. 



[The author's last words were, " Glory, glory, dwelleth in Immanuel's land ! " The 
sentiments, and many of the expressions, are his ; the poetry is by another hand.] 

THE sands of time are sinking, 
The dawn of heaven breaks ; 
The summer morn I've sighed for — 

The fair, sweet morn — awakes. 
Dark, dark, hath been the midnight : 

But dayspring is at hand ; 
And glory, glory, dwelleth 
In Immanuel's land. 

There the red Rose of Sharon 

Unfolds its heartmost bloom, 
And fills the air of heaven 

With ravishing perfume. 

39 j&v _#« 






4fc 




6lO HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Oh ! to behold it blossom, 

While by its fragrance fanned, 

Where glory, glory, dwelleth, 
In Immanuel's land ! 

The King there, in his beauty, 

Without a veil is seen : 
" It were a well-spent journey, 

Though seven deaths lay between. 
The Lamb, with his fair army, 

Doth on Mount Zion stand ; 
And glory, glory, dwelleth 

In Immanuel's land. 

O Christ ! he is the fountain, 

The deep, sweet well of love. 
The streams on earth I've tasted, 

More deep I'll drink above. 
There to an ocean fulness 

His mercy doth expand ; 
And glory, glory, dwelleth 

In Immanuel's land. 

Fair Anworth by the Solway, 

To me thou art still dear : 
E'en from the verge of heaven, 

I drop for thee a tear. 
Oh ! if one soul from Anworth 

Meet me at God's right hand,. 
My heaven will be two heavens 

In Immanuel's land ! 





.-A. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 6il 

I've wrestled on towards heaven, 

'Gainst storm and wind and tide : 
Now like a weary traveller 

That leaneth on his guide, 
Amid the shades of evening, 

While sinks life's lingering sand, 
I hail the glory dawning 

From Immanuel's land. 

With mercy and with judgment 

My web of time he wove, 
And aye the dews of sorrow 

Were lustred with his love. 
I'll bless the hand that guided, 

I'll bless the heart that planned, 
When throned where glory dwelleth, 

In Immanuel's land. 

The bride eyes not her garments, 
But her dear bridegroom's face : 

I will not gaze at glory, 
But at my King of grace ; 

Not at the crown he giveth, 
v But on his pierced hand. 

The Lamb is all the glory 
Of Immanuel's land. 







6l2 



yh/ 




HEAVEN IN SONG. 



WANDERING DOWN LIFE'S PATH. 



HORATIUS BONA-R. 



I AM wandering down life's shady path, 
Slowly, slowly, wandering down ; 
I am wandering down life's rugged path, 
Slowly, slowly, wandering down. 

Morn, with its store of buds and dew, 

Lies far behind me now ; 
Morn, with rts wealth of song and light, 

Lies far behind me now. 

Tis the mellow flush of sunset now, 
Tis the shadow and the cloud ; 

Tis the dimness of the dying eve, 
'Tis the shadow and the cloud. 



Tis the dreamy haze of twilight now, 
'Tis the hour of silent trust ; 

Tis the solemn hue of fading skies, 
Tis the time of tranquil trust. 

The pleasant heights of breezy life, 
The pleasant heights are past ; 

The sunny slopes of buoyant life, 
The sunny slopes are past. 






v^. 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 613 

I shall rest in yon low valley soon, 

There to sleep my toil away ; 
I shall rest in yon sweet valley soon, 

There to sleep my tears away. 

One little hour will soothe away 

Time's months of care and pain ; 
One quiet hour will dream away 

Time's years of care and pain. 

Laid side by side with those I love-, 

How calm that rest shall be ! 
Laid side by side with those I love, 

How soft that sleep shall be ! 

I shall rise and put on glory 

When the great morn shall dawn ; 

I shall rise and put on beauty 
When the glad morn shall dawn. 

I shall mount to yon fair city, 

The dwelling of the blest ; 
I shall enter yon bright city, 

The palace of the blest. 

1 shall meet the many parted ones, 

In that one home of joy ; 
Lost love forever found again, 

In that dear home of joy. 

We have shared our earthly sorrow, 

Each with the other here ; 
We shall share our heavenly gladness, 

Each with the other there. 






xtn. 




614 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

We have mingled tears together, 
We shall mingle smiles and song ; 

We have mingled sighs together, 
We shall mingle smiles and song. 



I CAN TARRY BUT A NIGHT. 



Mary S. B. Dana. 



" They were strangers and pilgrims." 

I'M a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger : 
I can tarry, I can tarry but a night. 
Do not detain me ; for I am going 
To where the streamlets are ever flowing. 

There the sunbeams are ever shining : 
I am longing, I am longing, for the sight. 
Within a country unknown and dreary, 
I have been wandering forlorn and weary. 

Of that country to which I am going, 
My Redeemer, my Redeemer, is the light 
There is no sorrow, nor any sighing, 
Nor any sin there, nor any dying. 






!f&g 




WAITING FOR HEAVEN. 615 



A LITTLE LONGER STILL, BELOVED. 



Adelaide A. Proctor. 



A LITTLE longer still, — patience, beloved ! — 
A little longer still, ere Heaven unroll 
The glory, and the brightness, and the wonder, 
Eternal and divine, that waits thy soul. 

A little longer ere life true, immortal, — 

Not this our shadowy life, — will be thine own, 

And thou shalt stand where winged archangels wor- 
ship, 
And trembling bow before the great white throne. 

A little longer still, and heaven awaits thee, 
And fills thy spirit with a great delight ; 

Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten, 
Our sun a darkness, and our day a night. 

A little longer, and thy heart, beloved, 

Shall beat forever with a love divine ; 
And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal, 

No creature knows and lives, will then be thine. 

A little longer yet, and angel voices 

Shall ring in heavenly chant upon thine ear ; 

Angels and saints await thee, and God needs thee ; 
Beloved, can we bid thee linger here ? 




jji$M 





WAY TO HEAVEN. 



For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be com- 
pared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. — Rom. 8 : 18. 

If we suffer, we shall also reign with him. — 2 Tim. 2 : 12. 

He that overcometh shall inherit all things. — Rev. 21 : 7. 

Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the 
tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.— Rev. 22 : 14. 








-$jy. 



THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 



NO! NO! IT IS NOT DYING. 



From the German of Gerhardt. 



NO ! no ! It is not dying 
To Jesus' self to go ; 
The gloom of earth forsaking, 
In one's pure home awaking, 
Should give no pang of woe. 

No! no ! It is not dying, 
In heaven at last to dwell ; 

In the eternal glory 

Of crown and harp and story 
Our earthly fears to quell. 

No ! no ! It is not dying, 

To hear the gracious tone 
Of the Almighty, saying, 
" Come, child, wherever staying, 
Behold me on the throne ! " 

No ! no ! It is not dying, 

To leave this world of strife, 
And seek that blessed river, 
Where Christ shall lead forever, 
His sheep 'neath trees of life. 







jfe 



JW 



620 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

No ! no ! It is not dying, 

With lordly glory crown'd, 
To join in the thanksgiving 
To Him, the ever living, 

With which the heavens resound. 

O no ! it is not dying, 

Thou Saviour of Thine own ! 
There, from the font Eternal, 
Gush life and joy supernal ! 
Here there are drops alone. 




COME BROTHERS LET US ONWARD. 



Gerhard Terstkgen. 



GOME, brothers, let us onward- 
Night comes without delay, 
And in this howling desert 
It is not good to stay. 
Take courage, and be strong, 
We are hasting on to Heaven ; 
Strength for warfare will be given, 
And glory won ere long. 

The Pilgrim's path of trial 
We do not fear to view ; 

We know His voice who calls us, 
We know Him to be true. 






j£g. 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 62 1 

Then, let who will contemn ; — 
Strong in His Almighty grace, 
Come, every one, with steadfast face 

On to Jerusalem ! 

Here, all unknown we wander, 

Despised on every hand ; 
Unnoticed, save when slighted — 

As strangers in the land. 

Our joys they will not share — 
Yet sing, that they may catch the song 
Of Heaven, and the happy throng 

That now awaits us there ! 

Come, gladly, let us onward — 

Hand in' hand still go, 
Each helping one another 

Through all the way below. 

One family of love, — 
Oh, let no voice of strife be heard, 
No discord, by the angel-guard 

Who watch us from above ! 

O brothers ! soon is ended 

The journey we've begun — 
Endure a little longer, 

The race will soon be won ! 

And in the land of rest, 
In yonder bright, eternal home, 
Where all the Father's loved ones come, 

We shall be safe and blest ! 






=4fe 




622 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



HOMEWARD IN SONG. 

[Wesley directed that a joyful hymn be sung when he should have breathed his last.] 

OSING to me of heaven, 
When I am called to die ; 
Sing songs of holy ecstasy, 
To waft my soul on high. 

When cold and sluggish drops 

Roll off my marble brow, 
Burst forth in strains of joyfulness, — 

Let heaven begin below. 

When the last moment comes, 

O, watch my dying face, 
And catch the bright, seraphic gleam 

Which o'er my features plays. 

Then to my ravished ears 

Let one sweet song be given ; 
Let music charm me last on earth, 

And greet me first in heaven. 

Then close my sightless eyes, 

And lay me down to rest, 
And clasp my cold and icy hands 

Upon my lifeless breast. 

Then round my senseless clay 

Assemble those I love, 
And sing of heaven, delightful heaven, 

My glorious home above ! 






$£&: 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 623 



ONLY ONE CROSSING OVER. 



Anonymous. 



ONLY one crossing over 
Waters all dark and wide : 
Storms on the fearful billows, 

Peace on the other side. 
Only one scene of anguish, 

Sorrow in sad words told ; 
Then a soft sound of singing, 
Softened by harps of gold. 

Only one crossing over, 

Far from the cares of earth — 
Mansions of rest are open, 

There is life's newest birth ; 
Look, when the fond eyes closing 

Speak of the sweet repose, 
Far from the land of mourning; 

Heaven shall soon disclose. 

Only one crossing over : 

Sadness, and shroud and bier 
Filling one hour of parting ; 

Then I shall enter there. 
Only one night of trial, 

Borne on the swelling river ; 
Then to my Saviour's presence, 

I shall be gone forever. 





jfr 




624 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



MY DAYS ARE GLIDING SWIFTLY BY. 



David Nelson. 



MY days are gliding swiftly by, 
And I, a pilgrim stranger, 
Would not detain them as they fly — • 
Those hours of toil and danger. 

For oh ! we stand on Jordan's strand, 

Our friends are passing over ; 
And just before, the shining shore 
We may almost discover. 

We'll gird our loins, my brethren dear, 

Our distant home discerning ; 
Our absent Lord has left us word, 

Let every lamp be burning. 

For oh ! we stand on Jordan's strand, etc. 

Should coming days be cold and dark, 

We need not cease our singing ; 
That perfect rest nought can molest, 

Where golden harps are ringing. 

For oh ! we stand on Jordan's strand, etc. 

Let sorrow's rudest tempests blow, 

Each chord on earth to sever ; 
Our King says " Come," and there's our home, 

Forever, oh ! forever. 

For oh ! we stand on Jordan's strand, etc. 






4& 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 625 



PILGRIMS, ON! THE DAY IS DAWNING. 



Anonymous. 



PILGRIMS — on! the day is dawning ; 
Strike your tents and homeward haste ; 
Sleep not while the blush of morning 

Calls you on the desert waste. 
Though the way be dark and dreary, 

Life's sharp anguish must be borne ; 
Courage, then ! ye faint and weary — 
Linger not to weep and mourn. 

Pilgrims — on ! the storm is beating — 

Beating wildly on your way ; 
Tarry not — the time is fleeting — 

Shall the storm your footsteps stay ? 
Hasten on through joy and sorrow, 

Let whatever may betide ; 
Wait not for the calm to-morrow, 

Faithful at the work abide. 

Pilgrims — on ! though darkness cover 

All earth's pathway to the tomb ; 
Angels o'er that pathway hover, 

'Mid the deep, surrounding gloom. 
Light effulgent beams above you 

From the throne of glory, where 
Bright seraphic ones, who love you, 

Witness all your grief and care. 
40 






A 




626 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Pilgrims — on ! what though in dangers ! 

Life's eventful course pursue ; 
Labor on, ye friendless strangers ; 

Grace will guide you safely through. 
What if trials must befal you ! 

What, if fierce temptation rise ! 
Shall earth's bitter strife appal you 

While contending for the prize? 

Pilgrims — on ! the day is ending — 

Life's probation day of woe ; 
Twilight shades e'en now are blending 

With the sunbeam's faintest glow. 
Soon the night of death, impending, 

Shall your toilsome journey end ; 
Hope, like starlight smiles descending, 

Cheers, while o'er the grave you bend 



SO NEAR, AND YET SO FAR ! 



Lenthal. 



SO near, and yet so far, that fane of gold. 
Where Day is lingering in the glowing West, 
The shining doors seem slowly to unfold, 
Opening an entrance to a home of rest ; 
Celestial ones fair, floating clouds upbear, 
Too blest to tarry in this world of care. 
Thus dream we till the night comes, stern and grey, 
And sweeps the sparkling pinnacles away, 
So near, and yet so far! 




^ 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 627 

So near, and yet so far, the friend whose heart 

Seems ever speaking in his earnest eyes : 
Yet souls from souls unfathomed depths do part- 
Betwixt our minds a voiceless mystery lies. 
So children in some clear stream gliding by, 
Watch the reflection of the distant sky, 
But cannot grasp the clouds of pearl and rose, 
Which in its bosom placidly repose, — 
So near, and yet so far ! 

So near, and yet so far, that Spirit-land 

Whose gales celestial soothe the weary brow. 
So near, as if the motion of a hand 

Might thrust aside the mist that hides it now, 
And yet so far that when earth's dear ones fly 
Like birds unfettered to their native sky, 
No answer comes back from the Shining Shore, 
And the torn heart writhes, moaning evermore : — 
So near, and yet so far ! 



THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY. 



From the Round Table. 



[The questionings, and the answers.] 

COULD we but know 
The land that ends our dark, uncertain travel- 
Where lie those happier hills and meadows low ! 
Ah ! if beyond the spirit's inmost cavil 

Aught of that country could we surely know, 
Who would not go ? 







ygg 




628 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

" Might we but hear 
The hovering angels' high imagined chorus, 

Or catch, betimes, with wakeful eyes and clear, 
One radiant vista of the realm before us ! 

With one rapt moment given to see and hear, 
Ah ! who would fear ! 

" Were we quite sure 
To find the peerless friend who left us lonely, 
Or there, by some celestial stream as pure, 
To gaze in eyes that here were lovelit only ! 
This weary mortal coil, — were we quite sure, 
Who would endure ? " 



Who would not go 
With buoyant steps, to gain that blessed portal 

Which opens to the land we long to know? 
Where shall be satisfied the soul's immortal, — ■ 
Where we shall drop the wearying and the woe 
In resting so ! 

Ah ! who would fear ? 
Since sometimes through the distant pearly portal, 

Unclosing to some happy soul a-near, 
We catch a gleam of glorious light immortal, 
And strains of heavenly music faintly hear, 
Breathing good cheer! 

Who would endure 
To walk in doubt and darkness with misgiving, 
When He whose tender promises are sure — 
The Crucified, the Lord, the Ever-living — 
Keeps us those " mansions" evermore secure 
By waters pure ? 





yfry 



THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 629 

O, wondrous land ! 
Fairer than all our spirit's fairest dreaming ; 

" Eye hath not seen" — no heart can understand 
The things prepared, the cloudless radiance streaming. 
How longingly we wait our Lord's command, 
His opening hand ! 

O, dear ones there, 
Whose voices, hushed, have left our pathway lonely, 

We come, ere long, your blessed hope to share ! 
We take the guiding Hand, we trust it only — 
Seeing, by faith, beyond this clouded air 
That land so fair ! 



UP THE MISTY STAIR THEY CLIMB. 



Adelaide A. Proctor. 



DIM shadows gather thickly, and up the misty stair 
they climb, — ■ 
The cloudy stair, that upward leads to where the 

closed portals shine, 
Round which the kneeling spirits wait the opening of 

the golden gate. 
And some with eager longing go, still pressing forward 

hand in hand ; 
And some, with weary step and slow, look back where 

their beloved stand, — ■ 
Yet up the misty stair they climb, led onward by the 

angel Time. 







4t& 




630 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

As unseen hands roll back the doors, the light that 
floods the very air 

Is the dim shadow from within, of the great glory hid- 
den there. 

And morn and eve, and soon and late, the shadows 
pass within the gate, 

As one by one they enter in, and the dim portals close 
once more. 

The halo seems to linger round those kneeling closest 
to the door, — 

The joy that lightened from that place shines still 
upon the watcher's face. 

The faint, low echo that we hear of far off music seems 

to fill 
The silent air with love and fear, and the world's 

clamors all grow still 
Until the portals close again, and leave us toiling on in 

pain. 
Complain not that the way is long ! What road is long 

that leads us There ? 
But let the angel take thy hand, and lead thee up the 

misty stair, 
And then, with trusting heart, await the opening of 

the golden gate ! 




A 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 63 



SHALL WE GATHER AT THE RIVER? 

SHALL we gather at the river, 
Where bright angel-feet have trod, 
With its crystal tide forever 
Flowing by the throne of God ? 

On the margin of the river, 

Washing up its silver spray, 
We will walk and worship ever, 

All the happy golden day. 

On the bosom of the river, 

Where the Saviour-King we own. 

We shall meet, and sorrow never 
'Neath the glory of the throne. 

Ere we reach the shining river, 

Lay we every burden down ; 
Grace our spirits will deliver, 

And provide a robe and crown. 

At the smiling of the river, 

Rippling with the Saviour's face, 

Saints, whom death will never sever, 
Lift their songs of saving grace. 

Soon we'll reach the shining river, 
Soon our pilgrimage shall cease, 

Soon our happy hearts will quiver, 
With the melody of Peace. 






A 




632 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



ONE SWEETLY SOLEMN THOUGHT. 



Phoebe Cary. 



ONE sweetly solemn thought 
Comes to me o'er and o'er — 
I am nearer home to-day, 
Than I ever was before. 

Nearer my Father's House, 
Where the many mansions be J 

Nearer the great white throne, 
Nearer the jasper-sea. 

Nearer the bound of life, 

Where we lay our burdens down ; 
Nearer leaving the cross, 

Nearer wearing the crown. 

But, lying dark between, 

Winding down through the night, 
Is the dim and unknown stream 

That leads at last to light. 

Closer, closer my steps 
Come to the dark abysm ; 

Closer, death to my lips, 
Presses the awful chrism. 







jfty 



4> 



THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 633 

Oh ; if my mortal feet 

Have almost gained the brink; — 
If it be I am nearer home 

Even to-day than I think ; — 

Father perfect my trust! 

Let my spirit feel in death 
That her feet are firmly set 

On the rock of a living faith ! 



O HAPPY PILGRIMS, SPOTLESS FAIR. 

PILGRIMS we are, to Canaan bound, 
Our journey lies along this road ; 
This wilderness we travel round, 
To reach the city of our God. 
O happy pilgrims, spotless fair, 
What makes your robes so white appear? 
Our robes are washed in Jesus' blood, 
And we are travelling home to God. 

A few more days, or weeks, or years, 

In this dark desert to complain ; 
A few more sighs, a few more tears, 
And we shall bid adieu to pain. 
O happy pilgrims, spotless fair, 
What makes your robes so white appear ? 
Our robes are washed in Jesus' blood, 
And we are travelling home to God. 







jfr 




634 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



IT IS TOLD ME I MUST DIE. 

[Richard Langhorne, a lawyer, was unjustly condemned and put to death as 
a traitor, in the reign of Charles II. Just before his execution he wrote the follow- 
ing poem. In the language of the Quarterly Review, a poem it must be called, 
though it is not verse. Perhaps there is not in this, or any other language, a poem 
which appears to have flowed so entirely from the heart.] 

IT is told me I must die ; 
O happy news ! 
Be glad, O my soul ! 
And rejoice in Jesus, thy Saviour. 
If He intended thy perdition, 
Would He have laid down His life for thee ? 
Would He have called thee with so much love, 
And illumined thee with the light of His Spirit ? 

Would He have given thee His cross, 
And given thee shoulders to bear it with patience? 

It is told me I must die ; 
O happy news ! 

Come on, my dearest soul ; 

Behold thy Jesus calls thee ; 

He prayed for thee upon His cross ; 
There He extended His arms to receive thee ; 
There He bowed down His head to kiss thee ; 
There He opened His heart to give thee entrance ; 
There He gave up His life to purchase life for thee ; 

It is told me I must die ; 
O what happiness ! 





-4Jy : 



THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 635 

I am going 
To the place of rest ; 
To the land of the living ; 
To the heaven of security ; - 
To the kingdom of peace ; 
To the palace of my God ; 
To the nuptials of the Lamb ; 
To sit at the table of my King ; 
To feed on the bread of Angels ; 
To see what no eye hath seen ; 
To hear what no ear hath heard ; 
To enjoy what the heart of man cannot comprehend. 

O my Father ! 
O thou best of Fathers, 
Have pity on the most wretched of all Thy children ! 

I was lost, but by Thy mercy found ; 
I was dead, but by Thy grace am now raised again ! 
I was gone astray after vanity, 
But I am now ready to appear before Thee. 

O my Father ! 
Come now in mercy, and receive Thy child ! 
Give him Thy kiss of peace; 
Remit unto him all his sins ; 
Clothe him with Thy nuptial robe ; 
Permit him to have a place at Thy feast ! 
And forgive all those who are guilty of his death ! 






Jfe. 



636 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



OUR BELOVED HAVE DEPARTED. 



Lange. 



OUR beloved have departed, 
While we tarry broken-hearted ; 
In the dreary empty house, 
They have ended life's brief story, 
They have reached the home of glory, 
Over death victorious ! 

Hush that sobbing, weep more lightly, 
On we travel, daily, nightly, 

To the rest that they have found : 
Are we not upon the river, 
Sailing fast, to meet forever, 

On more holy, happy ground ? 

Whilst with bitter tears we're mourning 
Thought to buried love returning, 

Time is hastening; us along-, 
Downward to the grave's dark dwelling, 
Upward, to the fountain welling, 

With eternal life and song ! 

Feel ye not the breezes hieing? 
Clouds, along in hurry flying — 

But we haste more swiftly on — 
Ever changing our position, 
Ever tossed in strange transition — 

Here to-day, to morrow gone ! 





lk 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 637 

Every hour that passes o'er us 
Speaks of comfort yet before us, 

Of our journey's rapid rate ; — 
And like passing vesper bells, 
The clock of Time its chiming tells, 

At Eternity's broad gate. 

On we haste, to home invited, 
There with friends to be united 

In a surer bond than here ; 
Meeting soon, and met forever ! 
Glorious hope ! forsake us never, 

For thy glimmering light is dear ! 

Ah ! the way is shining clearer, 
As we journey, ever nearer 

To our everlasting home ; 
Friends who There await our landing, 
Comrades, round the Throne now standing, 

We salute you, and we come ! 



AWAY TO THE LAND OF LIGHT. 



Marianne Farningham. 



AWAY to the land of light ; 
Its gates are shining with radiant beams, 
And the path in the morning sunlight gleams — 
Away to the land of light. 

There liveth the Holy One ; 
And we as we journey 'mid guilt and sin, 
See the fair land, but enter not in 

Till the stain from our brow be gone, 







J& : 




638 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

There are the friends we loved ; 
And the yearning heart is unsatisfied, 
While the cold dark wavelets our hearts divide ; 

There are the friends we loved. 

There is the sacred rest 
For which the tired spirits sigh in vain ; 
There is no cry which is wrung by pain ; 

There are the ransomed blest. 

There, there is perfect bliss : 
Away from the land of the curse and woe, 
Away from the depths of sin we will go, 

To the home where the Saviour is. 

Away to the land of light ; 
Lift the tired feet and press on once more, 
Soon will the journey of pain be o'er ; 

Away to the land of light. 



CALL IT A PEACEFUL REST. 

CALL it not dying, when we cast 
This mortal part away, 
And plume our wide expanding wings 
For realms of cloudless day. 

Call it not dying, when we see 

By faith the open door, 
Alluring us to that bright world 

Where we shall sin no more. 





y^. 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 639 

Call it not dying, when we snap 

Our prison bars in twain, 
And our freed spirits rise above 

The reach of care and pain. 

Call it not dying, when we go 
• To that dear home above, 
To life with Christ, the Crucified, 
Where all the air is love. 

Call it not dying, when we'll meet 

The loved of other years 
Where God's own hand has guided them, 

And wiped away their tears. 

Call it not dying, timid one, 

For fear to cross the stream 
That lands thee on the beauteous shore, 

Where heavenly glories beam. 

No ! call it going home to God ; 

Call it a peaceful rest ; 
Call it departing from this world, 

To dwell among the blest ! 



INTO THE CITY OF THE BLEST. 

INTO the City, in silence deep, 
The pearly gates unclosed once more ; 
Hushed was the fall of her parting feet, 
As gently she passed the threshold o'er ; 







jfc 




64O HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Only the light of that peaceful brow 

Reflecting splendor earth never guessed, 

Told that the spirit had entered in 
The holy City of love and rest. 

Into the City, a little way, 

Our faith may follow her shining trace, 
May see in vision the jasper walls, 

The golden streets of her dwelling-place — 
May catch the gleam of her robes of white, 

As low she kneels with the seraph throng — 
May see in her hand the victor palm, 

And know her voice in the angel's song. 

Into the City, whose purer joys 

Were ne'er to prophet or saint revealed ; — 
To clasp the loved ones of earth, and share 

The bliss of the souls that God hath sealed- 
To lean for aye on the Saviour's breast, 

Where Life's glad River forever flows, 
And feel the Sun of the Father's smile, 

The rapture that perfect love bestows. 

Into the City ! Why stand we here, 

Gazing so steadfastly into Heaven? 
An angel whisper we seem to hear, 

Solemn and sweet as the breath of even. 
" A few more steps of the onward way, 

A little longer to watch and wait, 
And ye, with sorrow and tears all past, 

May enter the City through the gate." 





y§M. 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 64 



THE SENTRY BY THE PORTAL. 



Thomas McKellar. 



THERE is a land immortal, — 
The beautiful of lands ; 
And near the ancient portal 

A sentry grimly stands ; 
He only can undo it, 

And open wide the d>oor; 
And mortals who pass through it 
Are mortal nevermore. 

That glorious land is Heaven, 

And Death. — the sentry grim ; 
The Lord, therefore, has given 

The opening keys to him : 
And ransomed sinners sighing, 

And sorrowful for sin, 
Do pass the gate in dying, 

And freely enter in. 

Though dark and drear the passage 

That leadeth to the door, 
Yet Grace comes with the message 

Of Love for evermore. 
And, at the time appointed, 

A messenger comes down, 
And leads the Lord's anointed 

From cross to Glory's crown. 




A. 




642 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Their sighs are lost in singing 

They're blessed in their tears — 
Their journey, homeward winging, 

They leave to earth their fears. 
Death, like an angel seemeth — 

" We welcome you,'' they cry; 
Each face with glory beameth. 

'Tis Life for them to die ! 



I'M RETURNING, NOT DEPARTING. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



I'M returning, not departing; 
My steps are homeward-bound ; 
I quit the land of strangers, 
For a home on native ground. 

I am rising, and not setting — 
This is not night, but day ; 

Not in darkness, but in sunshine, 
Like a star I fade away. 

All is well with me forever ; 

I do not fear to go ; 
My tide is but beginning 

Its bright eternal flow. 

I am leaving only shadows, 

For the true, and fair, and good ; 

I must not, cannot linger; 
I would not, if I could. 






j&: 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 643 

This is not Death's dark portal ; 

'Tis Life's golden gate to me ; 
Link after link is broken, 

And I, at last, am free ! 

I am going to the angels, 

I am going to my God ; 
I know the hand that beckons, 

I see the heavenly road. 

Why grieve me with your weeping? 

Your tears are all in vain : 
An hour's farewell, beloved, 

And we shall meet again. 

Jesus, Thou wilt receive me, 

And welcome me above ; 
This sunlight which now fills me, 

Is Thine own smile of love ! 



WHEN FOR ETERNAL WORLDS I STEER. 



w 



HEN for eternal worlds I steer, 



And seas are calm, and skies are clear, 
And faith, in lively exercise, 
The distant hills of Canaan rise, 
My soul for joy then claps her wings, 
And loud her lovely sonnet sings — 
Vain world, adieu ! Vain world, adieu ! 
And loud her lovely sonnet sings- 
Vain world, adieu ! Vain world, adieu ! 
4i 







-ill 




644 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

With cheerful hope her eyes explore 
Each landmark on the distant shore ; 
The trees of life, the pastures green, 
The golden streets, the crystal stream. 
Again for joy she claps her wings 
And loud her lovely sonnet sings — 
I'm almost Home ! I'm almost Home! 
And loud her lovely sonnet sings — 
I'm almost Home ! I'm almost Home ! 

The nearer still she draws to land, 

More eager all her hopes expand ; 

With steady helm and flowing sail 

Her anchor drops within the vale ; 

Again for joy she claps her wings 

And her celestial sonnet sings — 

I'm safe at Home ! I'm safe at Home ! 

And her celestial sonnet sings — 

I'm safe at Home I I'm safe at Home ! 



THROUGH THE CROSS THE CROWN. 

" VIA CRUCIS, VIA LUCIS." 



From the German. 



THROUGH the cross comes the crown ; when the 
cares of this life 
Like giants in strength may to crush thee combine, 
Never mind, never mind ! after sorrow's sad strife, 
Shall the peace and the crown of salvation be thine. 






■*fe. 



THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 645 

Through woe comes delight ; if at evening thou sigh, 
And thy soul still at midnight in sorrow appears, 

Never mind, never mind ! for the morning is nigh, 
Whose sunbeams of gladness shall dry up thy tears ! 

Through death comes our life : to the portal of pain. 
Through Time's thistle-fields, are our weary steps 
driven ; 

Never mind, never mind ! through this passage we gain 
The mansions of light and the portals of heaven. 



LAUNCH THY BOAT, MARINER. 



Caroline Southey. 



LAUNCH thy boat, mariner 1 
Christian, God speed thee! 
Let loose the rudder-bands, 

Good angels lead thee I 
Set thy sails warily, 

Tempests will come ; 
Steer thy course steadily, 
Christian, steer home I 

Look to the weather bow, 

Breakers are round thee •; 
Let fall thy plummet now, 

Shallows may ground thee ; 
Reef in the foresail there ! 

Hold the helm fast ! 
So, let the vessel wear, 

There swept the blast. 









6 4 6 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



"What of the night, watchman? 

What of the night ? " 
" Cloudy — all quiet : 

No land yet — all's right." 
Be wakeful, be vigilant, 

Danger may be 
At an hour when all seemeth 

Securest to thee. 

How, gains the leak so fast ? 

Clear out the hold ; 
Hoist up the merchandise, 

Heave out the gold ! 
There, let the ingots go, 

Now the ship rights ; 
Hurrah ! the harbor's near, 

Lo ! the red lights ! 

Slacken not sail yet, 

At inlet or island, 
Straight for the beacon steer, 

Straight for the highland ; 
Crowd all thy canvas on, 

Cut through the foam ; 
Christian, cast anchor now, 

Heaven is thy home! 





ill 



^ 

THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 647 



WOULDST THOU INHERIT LIFE WITH 
CHRIST? 




Simon Dach, (1640). 



WOULDST thou inherit life with Christ on high ? 
Then count the cost and know 
That here on earth below 
Thou needs must suffer with thy Lord and die. 
We reach that gain to which all else is loss, 
But through the cross. 

Oh think what sorrows Christ himself has known ! 

The scorn and anguish sore, 

The bitter death He bore, 
Ere He ascended to His heavenly throne ; 
And deemest thou, thou canst with right complain, 

Whate'er thy pain? 

Not e'en the sharpest sorrows we can feel, 

Nor keenest pangs, we dare 

With that great bliss compare 
When God His glory shall in us reveal. 
That shall endure when our brief woes are o'er 

For evermore ! 







-A- 




648 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE PEARLY GATES AJAR. 



Emily C. Judson. 



I GAZED down life's dim labyrinth, 
A wildering maze to see, 
Crossed o'er by many a tangled clue, 

And wild as wild could be ; 
And as I gazed in doubt and dread, 
An angel came to me. 

I knew him for a heavenly guide, 

I knew him even then, 
Though meekly as a child he stood 

Among the sons of men — 
By his deep spirit-loveliness, 

I knew him even then. 

And as I leaned my weary head 

Upon his proffered breast, 
And scanned the peril-haunted wild 

From out my place of rest, 
I wondered if the shining ones 

Of Eden were more blest. 

For there was light within my soul, 

Light on my peaceful way, 
And all around the blue above 

The clustering starlight lay ; 
And easterly I saw upreared 

The pearly gates of day. 







_J^ 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 649 

So, hand in hand, we trod the wild, 

My angel love and I — 
His lifted wing all quivering 

With tokens from the sky. 
Strange my dull thought could not divine 

'Twas lifted but to fly ! 

Again down life's dim labyrinth 

I grope my way alone, 
While wildly through the midnight sky 

Black, hurrying clouds are blown, 
And thickly, in my tangled path, 

The sharp, bare thorns are sown. 

Yet firm my foot, for well I know 

The goal cannot be far ; 
And ever, through the rifted clouds, 

Shines out one steady star — 
For when my guide went up, he left 

The pearly gates ajar. 



PILGRIMS FROM ALL LANDS. 



Marshall B. Smith. 



WE are pilgrims bound for the better land, 
Where the stream of life laves the golden sand 
W'e have no continuing city here, 
But our city of refuge, our home is there. 






jgg. 




650 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

From every region of earth, we've come, 

And, one in spirit, are journeying home. 

Out of every kindred and tongue and clime, 

From the land of the orange, the palm, and the lime. 

From the chill domain of eternal snows ; 
From the sunny home of the vine and rose ; 
From the east to the place of the setting sun ; 
From the ice-bound pole to the torrid zone. 

Of every color and tribe and race — 
Allied by adoption, made one by grace — 
We are journeying on to our home above, 
Where sin invades not the realm of love. 

We may stop to gather the wayside flowers ; 
We may rest awhile in the fragrant bowers, 
Which God hath provided along the way, 
To shield from the tempest or heat of day. 

But we may not stay in this world below, 
Where the cup of bliss has its dregs of woe ; 
Our home is on yonder illumined shore, 
Where woe can embitter our bliss no more. 

Where flowers bloom not to fade and die, 
Where naught shall sever affection's tie ; 
Where affliction comes not, nor death nor night, 
But where all is joyous and calm and bright. 

Do not detain us, for we cannot remain 
In this world of sorrow, of care and pain. 
We are heirs of glory through Christ the Son, 
And we may not rest till our goal is won. 





Jtfc. 



THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 

The stream of death lies just before, 
But our home appears on the farther shore. 
We can almost discover the jasper walls, 
The pearly gates, and the shining halls, 

The streets of gold and of priceless stone, 
The crystal sea and the great white throne ; 
Where cherub and seraph are bending low, 
Beneath the arch of the emerald bow : — ■ 

Where the Lamb is seated at God's right hand ; 
Where ransomed millions in glory stand. 
No night is there, neither moon nor sun, 
For the light thereof is the Holy One. 

We long to sunder these bonds of clay, 
And on eagle pinions to soar away ; 
But we follow our Captain's guiding hand 
And journey onward, a pilgrim band. 

A few short years and our toil is done — 
Our conflict finished — the victory won 
We shall lay our cross and our armor down, 
For the saintly robe and the kingly crown. 



6 5 i 








s£fc 




652 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE ROAD IS SHORT, THE REST IS LONG. 



From the German of Sachse. 



COME forth ! come on, with solemn song, 
The road is short, the rest is long. 
The Lord brought here, He calls away ; 

Make no delay, 
This home was for a passing day. 

Here in an inn a stranger dwelt, 
Here joy and grief by turns he felt ; 
Poor dwelling, now we close thy door ! 

The task is o'er, 
The sojourner returns no more. 

Now of a lasting home possessed, 
He goes to seek a deeper rest ; 
Good night ! the day was sultry here, 

In toil and fear ; 
Good night ! the night is cool and clear. 

Come on, ye bells ! again begin,- 
And ring the Sabbath morning in ; 
The laborer's week-day work is done, 

The rest begun, 
Which Christ hath for his people won ! 

Now open to us, gates of peace ! 
Here let the pilgrim's journey cease ; 




i4 fc_ 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 653 

Ye quiet slumberers, make room 

In your still home, 
For the new stranger who has come ! 

How many graves around us lie ! 
How many homes are in the sky ! 
Yes, for each saint doth Christ prepare 

A place with care : 
Thy home is waiting, brother, there. 

Jesus, Thou reignest, Lord, alone, 
Thou wilt return, and claim Thine own. 
Come quickly, Lord ! return again ! 

Amen ! Amen ! 
Thy seal is ever, now and then ! 



WITH STEADY FEET THEY PRESS ALONG. 



Marianne Farningham. 



ON, in the morn's first pleasant smile ; 
On, in the heat of the blazing noon ; 
On, when the twilight's shades beguile; 

On, 'neath the light of the midnight moon. 
Sing they the pilgrims' marching song, 

That little band with their banners high, 
As with steady feet they press along 

To the King's fair palace beyond the sky. 

They have left the graves of their loves behind, 
Their fairest treasures are buried deep ; 

Their hopes are scattered by storm and wind, 
And tearful watchers their vigils keep : 






^: 




654 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

They have no home 'mid the pastures fair, 
No resting place when the dew-drops fall ; 

But they hasten home, for their rest is there, 
And they follow the Master's clarion call. 

They go to the bright long-promised land : 

Shall this tear-dimmed world steal their hearts away? 
They will join the holy angelic band : 

Shall the sinful, the faithless, win their stay ? 
They will dwell amid beautiful fadeless flowers : 

Shall the weeds of this desert please their eyes ? 
They go where love lights the deathless hours : 

Should they ever halt 'mid these vanities? 

Nay, nay; they peer through the shadows dim, 

And see the towers of the Father's home ; 
They listen, and catch the distant hymn 

Which bids them to endless glory come. 
On, in the morn's first pleasant smile ; 

On, in the heat of the blazing noon ; 
On, when the twilight dews beguile, 

Home they press — they will reach it soon. 



JESUS, GUIDE OUR WAY. 



Arthur Tozer Russel. 



JESUS, guide our way 
To eternal day ! 
So shall we, no more delaying, 
Follow Thee, Thy voice obeying ; 
Lead us by Thy hand 
To our Father's land ! 



^ 






X£&: 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 655 

When we danger meet, 

Steadfast make our feet ! 

Lord, preserve us uncomplaining 

'Mid the darkness round us reigning ! 

Through adversity 

Lies our way to Thee. 

Order all our way 

Through this mortal day ; 

In our toil with aid be near us ; 

In our need with succor cheer us ; 

When life's course is o'er, 

Open Thou the door ! 



I SAIL TO THE LAND OF THE BLEST. 



E. D. Jackson. 



ON ! on ! through the storm and the billow, 
By life's checkered troubles opprest, 
The rude deck my home and my pillow, 

I sail to the land of the Blest. 
The tempests of darkness confound me, 

Above me the deep waters roll, 
But the arms of sweet Pity surround me, 
And bear up my foundering soul. 

With a wild and mysterious commotion 
The torrent flows, rapid and strong, 

Towards a mournful and shadowy ocean 
My vessel bounds fiercely along. 






A- 




6$6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Ye waters of gloom and of sorrow, 
How dread are your tumult and roar ! 

But oh, for the brilliant to-morrow 

That dawns upon yonder bright shore ! 

Pilot the great and the glorious, 
That sittest in garments so white, 

O'er death and o'er Hell " the Victorious,' 
The Way and the Truth and the Light, 

Speak, speak to the darkness appalling, 
And bid the mad turmoil to cease : 

For hark ! the good Angels are calling 
My soul to the haven of Peace. 

Now ended all sighing and sadness, 
The waves of destruction all spent, 

1 sing with the children of gladness 
The song of immortal content. 

Soar! Spirit, on bounding pinion, 
The monarch of endless days ; 

To JESUS the Prince of dominion 
Give honor, and glory, and praise. 



O'ERCOME AND REIGN WITH ME. 



Thomas H. Gill. 



" To him that overcometh." 

WHO, Lord of Glory, will partake 
Most largely of Thy bliss ? 
To whom, sweet Saviour, dost Thou make 
Thy sweetest promises ? 






j^r 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 657 

To him who overcomes, Thy voice 

With sevenfold grace doth sound : 
He who overcometh shall rejoice, 

With sevenfold glory crowned. 

Soul ! wouldst thou from the battle shrink, 

And flee before the foe ? 
Dost thou beneath the burden sink, 

And in the dust lie low ? 
O ! waste not there vain tears and sighs ! 

The trumpet soundeth clear ; 
O'ercome, and to my glory rise ! 

O'ercome, and triumph here ! 

Wouldst thou a fairer lot require 

And lighter tasks essay? 
Dost thou a brighter sun desire 

And wish a smoother way ? 
What saith the Master ? Overcome 

And thou shalt feast with Me, 
In Paradise shalt make thy home, 

And eat of life's fair tree. 

Does earth withhold from thee her smile ? 

Hast thou no glory here? 
Do men reject thee and revile ? 

What saith thy Saviour dear? 
O'ercome, and I will name thy name 

Before my Father's throne ; 
Heaven from my mouth shall hear thy fame 

And my true servant own. 






=)&-. 




658 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Renewed soul! dost thou aspire 

To the glad life above ? 
The Holy Land dost thou desire, 

The Realm of Rest and Love ? 
For thee it sounds — that Voice Divine 

Tells thee the self-same road ; 
O'ercome, and thou in white shalt shine 

And make with Me abode. 

Thou yearnest for thy Saviour's breast : 

Unto the end o'ercome ! 
Then on His bosom shalt thou rest ; 

Then shalt thou smile at home. 
The glory will be all thine own : 

To thee He speaks, to thee ! 
O'ercome, and sit upon my throne ! 

O'ercome, and reign with Me ! 



THERE'S A SOUND OF FEET IN THE DESERT 
TRACK. 



Marianne Farningham. 



THERE'S a sound of feet in the desert track- 
Eager feet that would not turn back ; 
That firmly press on, where the thorns are found ; 
Buoyant feet that are homeward-bound. 

There's a sound of song in the twilight dim, 
A thrilling sound of a sacred hymn ; 
And the pilgrims' marching feet keep time 
To the measure of that melodious chime! 





^H 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 659 

Alike in the densest shades of night, 
And the hottest glare of the noontide light, 
On they press up the rough hillside ; 
On, still on through the valleys wide. 

And they scarcely stay where the waters gush; 
Scarcely rest in the night's deep hush ; 
Scarcely gather the flowers around ; 
Steadily on, move the " homeward-bound." 

For their Father's house in the distance lies, 
And thither turn the aspiring eyes ; 
The thought of greetings and welcome there, 
Woos them on to its turrets fair. 

So cheerily pass the homeward-bound 

Through the stranger's land, where griefs abound, 

For a little while, and the pilgrim feet 

Will rest where the ransomed and holy meet. 



I'M GOING HOME. 



Anonymous. 



HOME ! Oh how soft and sweet 
It thrills upon the heart ! 
Home ! where the brethren meet, 
And never, never part. 
I'm going home. 
42 






^ 



660 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Home ! where the Bridegroom takes 
The purchase of His love: 

Home! where the Father waits 
To welcome saints above. 
I'm going home. 

Yes ! when the world looks cold, 
Which did my Lord revile, 

A lamb within the fold, 
I can look up and smile. 
I'm going home. 

When earth's delusive charms 
Would snare my pilgrim feet, 

I fly to Jesus' arms, 
And yet again repeat, — 
I'm going home. 

When breaks each mortal tie 
That holds me from the goal, 

This, this can satisfy 

The cravings of my soul, — 
I'm going home. 

Ah ! gently, gently lead 

Along the painful way ; 
Bid every word and deed, 

And every look to say, — 
I'm going home. 





Ac. 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 66 1 



MY FATHERLAND IS YONDER. 



From Lyra Germanica. 




A PILGRIM here I wander, 
On earth have no abode ; 
My fatherland is yonder, 

My home is with my God. 
For here I journey to and fro, 

There, in eternal rest, 
Will God His gracious gift bestow 
On all the toil-oppressed. 

For what hath life been giving 

From youth up till this day, 
But constant toil and striving, 

Far back as thought can stray ? 
How many a day of toil and care, 

How many a night of tears, 
Hath passed in grief that none could share, 

In lonely anxious fears ! 

How many a storm hath lighten'd 

And thundered round my path ! 
And winds and rains have frighten'd 

My heart with fiercest wrath ; 
And cruel envy, hatred, scorn, 

Have darken'd oft my lot ; 
And patiently reproach I've borne, 

Thongh I deserved it not. 






A 




662 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Then through this life of dangers 

I'll onward take my way, 
For in this land of strangers 

I do not think to stay. 
Still forward on the road I fare 

That leads me to my home. 
My Father's comfort waits me there, 

When I have overcome. 

Ah, yes ! my home is yonder, 

Where all the angelic bands 
Praise Him with awe and wonder, 

In whose Almighty hands 
All t .ings that are and shall be, lie, 

By Him upholden still, 
Vv ho casteth down and lifts on high 

At His most holy will 

That home have I desired ; 

'Tis there I would be gone ; 
Till I am well nigh tir'd, 

O'er earth I've journey'd on ; 
The longer here I roam, I find 

The less of real joy 
That e'er could please or fill my mind. 

For all hath some alloy. 

Where now my spirit stayeth 

It is not her true abode ; 
This earthly house decayeth, 

And she will drop its load, 



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THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 



66 3 



When comes the hour to leave beneath 

What now I use and have, 
And when I've yielded up my breath, 

Earth gives me but a grave. 

But Thou, my joy and gladness, 

Jesus, my life and light, 
Wilt raise me from this sadness, 

This long tempestuous night, 
Into the perfect gladsome day, 

Where, bathed in joy divine, 
Among Thy saints, and bright as they, 

I too shall ever shine. 



There shall I dwell for ever, 

Not as a guest alone, 
With those who cease there never 

To worship at Thy throne ; 
There in my heritage I'll rest, 

From baser things set free, 
And join the chorus of the blest 



For ever 



to Thee ! 





&. 




664 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



I'M BUT A STRANGER HERE. 



F. R. Taylor. 



I'M but a stranger here ; 
Earth is a desert drear, 

Heaven is my home. 
Danger and sorrow stand 
Round me on every hand, 
Heaven is my Father-land, 

Heaven is my home. 

What though the tempest rage, 
Short is my pilgrimage, 

Heaven is my home. 
And time's wild wintry blast 
Soon will be overpast, 
I shall reach home at last ; 

Heaven is my home. 

There, at my Saviour's side, 
I shall be glorified ; 

Heaven is my home, 
There, with the good and blest, 
Those I love most and best, 
I shall for ever rest ; 

Heaven is my home. 






.4fr 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 665 

Therefore I'll murmur not, 
Whate'er my earthly lot ; 

Heaven is my home. 
For I shall surely stand 
There at my Lord's right hand ; — 
Heaven is my Father-land, 

Heaven is my home. 



JESUS LIKE THE MAGNET RAISES. 



From Spitta, Translated by Richard Massie. 



AS a traveller, returning 
To his home from some far land, 
Thinks of it with bosom yearning, 

Ere his foot hath touched the strand 
So amid the noisy pleasures 

Of the world, the heart oft sighs 
For the nobler higher treasures 
Laid up for us in the skies. 

All our wish and our endeavor 

Is to love and please and choose 
Him, who loves us, nor will ever 

What is for our good refuse. 
When the soul without distraction 

Sits and listens at His feet, 
Then she finds true satisfaction 

And a happiness complete. 







-^ 




666 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Jesus, like the magnet, raises 

Our dull spirits to the skies, 
And we seem, in prayer and praises, 

As on eagles' wings to rise ; 
,Why we feel this strong attraction, 

Why we wait for His command 
In each thought, and word, and action, 

Can the world not understand. 

Should our enemies asperse us, 

Our dear Lord, who loves us so, 
Bids us bless e'en them who curse us, 

And to love our greatest foe. 
He, who died for our salvation, 

And on us hath heaven bestowed, 
Wills that by our conversation 

We should glorify our God. 

Can we have our hearts in heaven, 

And yet earthly-minded live? 
Can we, who have been forgiven, 

Not forget and not forgive ? 
Can we hate an erring brother, 

Only love when we are loved, 
And not bear with one another, 

By Christ's Holy Spirit moved ? 

Ah ! no hater, or blasphemer, 
None who slander and defame, 

Can be one with the Redeemer, 
Who was gentle as a lamb ; 






J^ 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 667 

Love will cause assimilation 

With the object of our love, 
Love will work a transformation, 

And renewal from above. 

None, O Lord, who are unholy, 

Shall thy perfect beauty see ; 
Teach me to be meek and lowly, 

Teach me to resemble Thee. 
Keep me from the world unspotted, 

That I may not only be 
To Thy service here devoted, 

But abide in heaven with Thee. 



COME LET US GO TO HEAVEN. 



James Montgomery. 



COME, let us go to heaven ; — the way 
Like darkness, opens into day, 
When from the turning-point of night, 
Breaks the first beam of morning light. 

Come let us go to heaven ; — our guide 
Is Christ who lived, is Christ who died, 
And rose again ; His staff and rod, 
Through life and death, will lead to GOD. 

Come, let us go to heaven ; forsake 
Sin, earth, and hell, and gladly take 
His easy yoke, His pleasant load, 
And brave the dangers of the road. 







$£&. 




668 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Come, let us go to heaven ; — and press 
On through the howling wilderness ; 
Yet fear not, little flock, though foes 
Without, within, your course oppose. 

Come, let us go to heaven, — no power, 

Not Satan roaring to devour, 

Nor all his hosts, can harm, for ye, 

Through Christ, shall more than conquerors be. 

Come, let us go to heaven ; — and meet 
Once and for ever, round His feet ; 
Yea, in Christ's kingdom, as His own. 
Sit down with Him upon His throne. 

Can these things be ? — they are, are sure 
To all who to the end endure ; 
While unbelief cries, " can they be ? " 
Come, let us go to heaven and see. 



TO HEAVEN WE MARCH ON. 



James Montgomery. 



COME on, companions of our way, 
Who travel to eternal day 
Through this poor world of night ; 
Give to the LORD, in noble songs, 
The praise that to His name belongs, 
As children of the light. 





_^. 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 669 

Call'd out of darkness, by His voice, 
Be that clear shining path our choice, 

Which Christ our captain trod ! 
Whether with flowers and fragrance crown'd, 
Or thorns and thistle interwound, 

It leads the soul to God. 

Though pilgrims in a vale of woes, 

Thick-strown with snares, and throng'd with foes , 

Since JESUS journey'd through, 
Plant but your steps where His have prest 
The ground once curst, — that ground now blest 

Is heaven's highway for you. 

To heaven, to heaven then march we on, 
Go where our conquering LORD hath gone ! 

Thus where He is, shall we 
In joy behold Him face to face, 
And, changed by glorifying grace, 

Resemble Him we see. 



JOYFULLY ONWARD WE MOVE. 

JOYFULLY, joyfully, onward we move, 
Bound to the land of bright spirits above 
Jesus, our Saviour, in mercy says, " Come," 
Joyfully, joyfully, haste to our home. 
Joyfully, joyfully, onward we move, 
Bound to the land of bright spirits above. 






*$£. 





670 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Soon will our pilgrimage end here below, 
Soon to the presence of God we shall go ; 
Then, if to Jesus our hearts have been given, 
Joyfully, joyfully, rest we in heaven. 
Joyfully, joyfully, onward, etc. 

Teachers and kindred have passed on before ; 
Waiting, they watch us approaching the shore, 
Singing, to cheer us while passing along,— 
Joyfully, joyfully, haste to your home. 
Joyfully, joyfully, onward, etc. 

Sounds of sweet music there ravish the ear; 
Harps of the blessed, your strains we shall hear, 
Filling with harmony heaven's high dome ; 
Joyfully, joyfully, Jesus, we come, 
Joyfully, joyfully, onward, etc. 

Death, with its arrow, may soon lay us low ; 
Safe in our Saviour, we fear not the blow : 
Jesus hath broken the bars of the tomb — 
Joyfully, joyfully, we will go home. 
Joyfully, joyfully, onward, etc. 

Bright will the morn of eternity dawn ; 

Death shall be conquered, its sceptre be gone ; 

Over the plains of our Canaan we'll roam, 

Joyfully, joyfully, safely at home. 
Joyfully, joyfully, onward, we move, 
Bound to the land of bright spirits above. 





A 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 



67I 



THUS I TAKE MY PILGRIMAGE. 



Sir Walter Raleigh. 
[The antiquated spelling is preserved.] 

GIUE me my scallop-shell of quiet, 
My staffe of faith to walk upon, 
My scrip of ioye, (immortal diet !) 
My bottle of saluation, 
My gowne of glory, hope's true gage ; 
— And thus 1 take my pilgrimage. 
Blood must be my body's balmer, 
While my soule, like peaceful palmer, 
Travelleth towards the land of heauen 
Other balm will not be giuen. 
Over the silver mountains, 
Where spring the nectar-fountains, 
There will I kiss 
The bowle of bliss, 
And drink mine everlasting fill 
Upon euery milken hill : 
My soule will be adry before, 
But after that will thirst no more. 






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672 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



COME LET US LIFT OUR JOYFUL EYES. 



Isaac Watts. 



COME, let us lift our joyful eyes 
Up to the courts above, 
And smile to see our Father there, 
Upon a throne of love. 

Once 'twas a- seat of dreadful wrath, 

And shot devouring flame : 
Our God appeared consuming fire, 

And Vengeance was His name. 

Rich were the drops of Jesus' blood 
That calmed His frowning face, 

That sprinkled o'er the burning throne, 
And turned the wrath to grace. 

Now we may bow before His feet, 
And venture near the Lord : 

No fiery cherub guards His seat, 
Nor double-flaming sword. 

The peaceful gates of heavenly bliss 

Are opened by the Son : 
High let us raise our notes of praise, 

And reach the Almighty throne. 






iti! 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 6j\ 

To Thee ten thousand thanks we bring, 

Great Advocate on high ; 
And glory to the eternal King, 

That lays His fury by. 



AS EAGER TRAVELLER TO THE GOAL. 



Christina G. RossETTr. 



AS eager homebound Traveller to the goal, 
Or steadfast Seeker on an unsearched main, 
Or Martyr panting for an aureole, 

My Fellow-pilgrims pass me, and attain 
That hidden Mansion of perpetual peace 

Where keen desire and hope dwell free from pain 
That Gate stands open of perennial ease ; 

I view the Glory till I partly long, 
Yet lack the fire of love which quickens these. 

O passing Angel, speed me with a song, 
A melody of Heaven to reach my heart 

And rouse me to the race and make me strong; 
Till in such music I take up my part, 

Swelling those Alleluias full of rest, 
One, tenfold, hundredfold, with Heavenly art, 

Fulfilling north and south and east and west, 
Thousand, ten thousandfold, innumerable, 

All blent in one yet each one manifest ; 
Each one distinguished and beloved as well 

As if no second voice in earth or Heaven 
Were lifted up the Love of GOD to tell. 







=& 



674 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Ah, Love of GOD, which Thine own Self hast given 
To me most poor, and made me rich in love, 

Love that dost pass the tenfold seven times seven, 
Draw Thou mine eyes, draw Thou my heart above, 

My treasure and my heart store Thou in Thee. 
Brood over me with yearnings of a dove ; 

Be Husband, Brother, closest Friend to me ; 
Love me as very mother loves her son, 

Her sucking firstborn, fondled on her knee: 
Yea, more than mother loves her little one ; 

For earthly even a mother may forget, 
And feel no pity for its piteous moan ; 

But Thou, O Love of GOD, remember yet, 
Through the dry desert, through the waterflood, 

(Life, Death), until the great White Throne is set. 
If now I am sick in chewing the bitter cud 

Of sweet past sin, though solaced by Thy Grace, 
And oft-times strengthened by Thy Flesh and Blood, 

How shall I then stand up before Thy Face, 
When from Thine Eyes repentance shall be hid 

And utmost Justice stand in Mercy's place: 
When every sin I thought, or spoke, or did, 

Shall meet me at the inexorable Bar, 
And there be no man standing in the mid 

To plead for me ; while star fallen after star 
With Heaven and earth are like a ripened shock, 

And all time's mighty works and wonders are 
Consumed as in a moment ; when no rock 

Remains to fall on me, no tree to hide, 
But I stand all creation's gazing-stock, 

Exposed and comfortless on every side, / 









THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 



675 



Placed trembling in the final balances 

Whose poise this hour, this moment, must be tried ? 
Ah, Love of GOD, if greater Love than this 

Hath no man, that a Man die for His Friend, 
And if such Love of Love Thine own Love is, 

Plead with Thyself, with me, before the end ; 
Redeem me from the irrevocable past ; 

Pitch Thou Thy Presence round me to defend ; 
Yea, seek with pierced Feet, yea, hold me fast 

With pierced Hands — Whose Wounds were made 
by Love ; 
Not what I am, remember what Thou wast 

When darkness hid from Thee Thy Heavens above, 
And sin Thy FATHER'S Face, while Thou didst drink 

The bitter Cup of Death, didst taste thereof 
For every man : while Thou wast nigh to sink 

Beneath the intense, intolerable rod, 
Grown sick of Love : not what I am, but think 

Thy Life then ransomed mine, my God, my GOD. 



COME LET US OUR JOURNEY PURSUE. 



Charles Wesley. 



COME, let us anew our journey pursue, 
With vigor arise, 
And press to our permanent place in the skies. 
Of heavenly birth, though wandering on earth, 

This is not our place, 
But strangers and pilgrims ourselves we confess. 



^ 





A- 




6?6 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

At Jesus' call we gave up our all ; 

And still we forego, 
For Jesus' sake, our enjoyments below. 
No longing we find for the country behind ; 

But onward we move, 
And still we are seeking a country above : — 

A country of joy without any alloy ; 

We thither repair ; 
Our hearts and our treasure already are there. 
We march hand in hand to Immanuel's land ; 

No matter what cheer 
We meet with on earth, for eternity's here ! 

The rougher the way, the shorter our stay ; 

The tempests that rise 
Shall gloriously hurry our souls to the skies : 
The fiercer the blast, the sooner 'tis past ; 

The troubles that come 
Shall help to the rescue, and hasten us home. 



BRETHREN, WHILE WE SOJOURN HERE. 

BRETHREN, while we sojourn here, 
Fight we must, but should not fear ; 
Foes we have, but we've a friend, 
One that loves us to the end : 
Forward, then, with courage go, 
Long we shall not dwell below; 
Soon the joyful news will come, 
u Child, your Father calls, Come home." 







^k : 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 6f 

In the way a thousand snares 

Lie to take us unawares ; 

Satan with malicious art, 

Watches each unguarded heart: 

But from Satan's malice free, 

Saints shall soon in glory be ; 

Soon the joyful news will come, 

" Child, your Father calls, Come home." 

But of all the foes we meet, 

None so oft mislead our feet, 

None betray us into sin, 

Like the foes that dwell within : 

Yet let nothing spoil your peace, 

Christ shall also conquer these ; 

Then the joyful news will come, 

" Child, your Father calls, Come home." 



THE WEARY ONES REST, FORGETTING 
THEIR WOK 



Marianne Farningham. 



THEY have struggled away from the city of tears, 
They have broken the bands that had bound them 
too long, 
They have shaken off fetters that held them for years, 
They are learning the notes of the heavenly song. 

With firm step and rapid they march up the hill, 
And keen eyes that look for the city of light, 

Onl/ halting awhile by the bright sparkling rill, 
And dreaming of ladders to heaven by night. 







4f£ 



678 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

They wake with the pilgrim's strong staff in their 
hands, 

And gird on their armor, and cheerfully go 
Where eternal suns shine on the holier lands, 

And the weary ones rest them, forgetting their woe. 

Faint echoes have come from the far golden shore, 
Foreshadowing pictures have gladdened their eyes, 

And, glad for the fatherland lying before, 

They reck not if gloom clothe the winter's cold skies. 

With the seal of the kingdom engraved on each brow, 
And with hearts that are restless till resting at home, 

They are pilgrims and strangers all sorrowful now, 
But shall reign with the King when to Zion they 
come. 



KNOW YE THE LAND AND THE WAY? 



From the German, by C. T. Brooks. 



KNOW ye the land ? Oh ! not on earth it lies 
For which the heart in hours of trouble sighs ; 
Where flows no tear, no sorrow mars the song, 
The good are happy, and the weak are strong. 
Know ye the land ? 

The goal, the goal, 
O friends, is there ! Press on with heart and soul. 

Know ye the way, the rough and thorny road ? 
The wanderer groans beneath his painful load ; 






A 



COME, ARISE, I AM THE WAY. 



Thomas B. Read. 



AWEARY, wandering soul am I, 
O'erburdened with an earthly weight, 
A pilgrim through the world and sky, 
Toward the celestial gate. 

Tell me, ye sweet and sinless flowers 
Who all night gaze upon the skies, 

Have ye not in the silent hours 
Seen au<jht of Paradise ? 

Ye birds, that soar and sing, elate 

With joy, that .makes your voices strong, 

Have ye not at the golden gate 
Caught somewhat of your song? 






THE WAY TO HEAVEX. 679 

He faints — he sinks ; in dust he lifts his eyes ; 
" How long, O Lord ?'' the weary pilgrim sighs. 
Know ye the way ? 

It tends, it tends 
To that blest land where every torment ends. 

Know ye the Friend, a man, a child of earth, 
Yet more, far more than all of human birth ? 
That rough and thorny road his feet have trod ; 
Well can he guide poor pilgrims home to God. 
Know ye the Friend ? 

His hand, his hand 
Conducts us safelv to our native land. 





^ 




680 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Ye waters, sparkling in the morn, 
Ye seas, which glass the starry night, 

Have ye not from the imperial bourn 
Caught glimpses of its light ? 

Ye hermit oaks and sentinel pines, 
Ye mountain forests old and grey, 

In all your long and winding lines, 
Have ye not seen the way ? 

O moon, among thy starry bowers, 

Know'st thou the path the angels tread ? 

Seest thou beyond thy azure towers 
The shining gates dispread ? 

Ye holy spheres, that sang with earth 
When earth was still a sinless star, 

Have the immortals heavenly birth 
Within your realms afar? 

And thou, O sun, whose light unfurls 

Bright banners through unnumbered skies, 

Seest thou among thy subject worlds 
The radiant portals rise? 

All, all are mute ; and still am I 

O'erburdened with an earthly weight, 

A pilgrim through the world and sky, 
Towards the celestial gate. 

No answer, wheresoe'er I roam, 
From skies afar no guiding ray ; 

But hark ! the voice of Christ says, " Come, 
Arise, I am the way." 







Af 




THE WAV TO HEAVEN. 



IT IS NOT DEATH TO DIE. 



68 1 



George W. Bethune. 



IT is not death to die — 
To leave this weary road, 
And, 'mid the brotherhood on high, 
To be at home with God. 

It is not death to close 

The eye long dimmed by tears, 
And wake, in glorious repose 

To spend eternal years. 

It is not death to bear 

The wrench that sets us free 

From dungeon chain, to breathe the aii 
Of boundless liberty. 

It is not death to fling 

Aside this sinful dust, 
And rise, on strong exulting wing, 

To live among the just. 

Jesus, Thou Prince of life! 

Thy chosen cannot die ; 
Like Thee, they conquer in the strife, 

To reign with Thee on high. 





J&f. 




682 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THY WAY, N.OT MINE. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



THY way, not mine, O Lord, 
However dark it be ! 
Lead me by Thine own hand, 
Choose out the path for me. 

Smooth let it be or rough, 

It will be still the best ; 
Winding or straight, it matters not. 

It leads me to Thy rest. 

I dare not choose my lot : 

I would not, if I might ; 
Choose Thou for me, my God, 

So shall I walk aright. 

The kingdom that I seek 
Is Thine : so let the way 

That leads to it be Thine, 
Else I must surely stray. 

Take Thou my cup, and it 

With joy or sorrow fill, 
As best to Thee may seem ; 

Choose Thou my good and ill. 



^ 






4fc 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 6^3 

Choose Thou for me my friends, 

My sickness or my health, 
Choose Thou my cares for me, 

My poverty or wealth. 

Not mine, not mine the choice, 

In things or great or small; 
Be Thou my guide, my strength, 

My wisdom, and my all. 



JESUS, STILL LEAD ON. 



From the German of Count Zinzendorf. 



JESUS, still lead on, 
Till our rest be won ; 
And, although the way be cheerless, 
We will follow, calm and fearless ; 
Guide us by Thy hand 
To our fatherland. 

If the way be drear, 

If the foe be near, 
Let not faithless fears o'ertake us, 
Let not faith and hope forsake us ; 

For through many a foe 

To our home we go. 

When we seek relief 
From a long-felt grief, 







\ j&H 




684 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

When temptations come alluring, 
Make us patient and enduring ; 
Show us that bright shore 
Where we weep no more. 

Jesus, still lead on, 

Till our rest be won ; 
Heavenly Leader, still direct us, 
Still support, console, protect us, 

Till we safely stand 

In our fatherland. 



THROUGH NIGHT TO LIGHT. 



From the German of Kosegarten. 

THROUGH night to light. And though to mortal 
eyes 
Creation's face a pall of horror wear, 
Good cheer, good cheer ! The gloom of midnight flies ; 
Then shall a sunrise follow, mild and fair. 

Through storm to calm. And though his thunder-car 
The rumbling tempest drive through earth and sky, 

Good cheer, good cheer ! The elemental war 
Tells that a blessed healing hour is nigh. 

Through frost to spring. And though the biting blast 

Of Eurus stiffen nature's juicy veins, 
Good cheer, Good cheer ! When winter's wrath is 
past, 
Soft murmuring spring breathes sweetly o'er the 
plains. 







A 



THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 685 

Through strife to peace. And though with bristling 
front 
A thousand frightful depths encompass thee, 
Good cheer, good cheer ! Brave thou the battle's 
brunt, 
For the peace march and song of victory. 

Through sweat to sleep. And though the sultry noon, 
With heavy, drooping wing, oppress thee now, 

Good cheer, good cheer ! The cool of evening soon 
Shall lull to sweet repose thy weary brow. 

Through cross to crown. And though thy spirit's life 
Trials untold assail with giant strength, 

Good cheer, good cheer ! Soon ends the bitter strife, 
And thou shalt reign in peace with Christ at length. 

Through woe to joy. And though at morn thou weep 
And though the midnight find thee weeping still, 

Good cheer, good cheer ! The Shepherd loves His 
sheep; 
Resign thee to the watchful Father's will. 

Through death to life. And through this vale of tears, 
And through this thistle-field of life, ascend 

To the great supper in that world whose years 
Of bliss unfading, cloudless, know no end ! 







jtffc 




686 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



IS THIS THE WAY, MY FATHER? 

IS this the way, My Father ? Tis, My child ; 
Thou must pass through this tangled, dreary wild 
If thou wouldst reach the city undefiled, 

Thy peaceful home above. 

But enemies are round. Yes, child, I know 
That where thou least expect'st thou'lt find a foe ; 
But victor thou shalt prove o'er all below : 
Only seek strength above. 

My Father, it is dark ! Child, take My hand, 
Cling close to Me ; I'll lead thee through the land ; 
Trust My all-seeing care ; so shalt thou stand 
'Midst glory bright above. 

My footsteps seem to slide ! Child, only raise 
Thine eye to Me ; then in these slippery ways 
I will hold up thy goings ; thou shalt praise 
Me for each step above. 

O Father, I am weary ! Child, lean thy head 
Upon My breast. It was My love that spread 
Thy rugged path. Hope on, till I have said, 
" Rest, rest for aye, above." 







jfc 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 687 



SONG OF THE SILENT LAND. 



J. G. Von Salis, Translated by H. W. Longfellow. 



INTO the Silent Land ! 
Ah ! who shall lead us thither ? 
Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, 
And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand : 
Who leads us with a gentle hand, 
Thither, O thither, 
Into the Silent Land? 

Into the Silent Land ! 
To you, ye boundless regions 
Of all perfection ! Tender morning visions and 
Of beauteous souls ! The future's pledge and band ! 
Who in life's battle firm doth stand 
Shall bear hope's tender blossoms 

Into the Silent Land ! 

O Land ! O Land ! 
For all the broken-hearted, 
The mildest herald by our fate allotted 
Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand, 
To lead us with a gentle hand 
Into the land of the great departed, 

Into the Silent Land ! 








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688 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



DOES THE ROAD WIND UP-HILL ALL THE 

WAY? 



Christina G. Rossetti. 



DOES the road wind up-hill all the way? 
Yes to the very end. 
Will the day's journey take the whole long day? 
From morn to night my friend. 

But is there for the night a resting-place ? 

A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. 
May not the darkness hide it from my face ? 

You cannot miss that inn. 

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night ? 

Those who have gone before. 
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight ? 

They will not keep you standing at the door. 

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak? 

Of labor you shall find the sum. 
Will there be beds for me and all who seek? 

Yes, beds for all who come. 





jig. 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 689 



PILGRIMS OF EVERY LAND AND CLIME. 



HORATIUS BONAR. 



NOT from Jerusalem alone 
To heaven the path ascends. 
As near, as sure, as straight the way 
That leads to the celestial day, 
From farthest realms extends, — 
Frigid or torrid zone. 

What matters how or whence we start? 
One is the crown to all ; 

One is the hard but glorious race, 
Whatever be our starting-place. 
Rings round the earth the call 
That says, Arise, depart ! 

From the balm-breathing, sun-loved isles 
Of the bright. Southern Sea, 

From the dead North's cloud-shadowed pole, 
We gather to one gladsome goal, — 
One common home in thee, — 
City of sun and smiles ! 

The cold rough billow hinders none, 
Nor helps the calm, fair main ; 

44 







^ 





69O HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The brown rock of Norwegian gloom, 
The verdure of Tahitian bloom, 
The sands of Mizraim's plain, 
Or peaks of Lebanon. 

As from the green lands of the vine, 
So from the snow-wastes pale, 
We find the ever open road 
To the dear city of our God, — 
From Russian steppe, or Burman v.ale, 
Or terraced Palestine. 

Not from swift Jordan's sacred stream 
Alone we mount above ; 

Indus or Danube, Thames or Rhone, — 
Rivers unsainted and unknown, — 
From each the home of love 
Beckons with heavenly gleam. 

Not from grey Olivet alone 
We see the gates of light ; 

From Morven's heath, or Jungfrau's snow, 
We welcome the descending glow 
Of pearl and chrysolite, 
And the unsetting sun. 

Not from Jerusalem alone 
The church ascends to God ; 

Strangers of every tongue and clime, 
Pilgrims of every land and time, 
Throng the well-trodden road 
That leads up to the throne. 




£t& 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 69 1 



TAKE UP THY CROSS AND FOLLOW ME. 

THE way seems long, dear Leader; and my feet 
Are weary, pressing oft these thorns : 'twere 
sweet, 
Methinks, to rest : this heavy cross remove : 
Thou surely need'st not thus my love to prove. 
" Rest not, weak heart, nor lay thy burden down : 
For earth's short rest would lose thy heavenly 
crown." 

The way is dark, dear Leader ; mists arise 
That hide Thy blessed presence from my eyes : 
I stumble on this lonely mountain wild : 

loving Father! spare me, spare thy child. 

" Dost hear my voice ? Then follow as I bade : 
Thou'rt safe if firm on Me thy trust is stayed." 

But I am faint, dear Leader : and I sink ; 
My steps are well-nigh gone ; upon the brink 

1 helpless fall : put forth mighty power, 
And save me, loving Father, in this hour. 

" Drink freely of the brook that floweth by • 
Then lift thy head, — thy Leader still is nigh." 

And must it thus, dear Leader, ever be? 
And may we here no resting-place e'er see ? . 
Though faint and weary, light or dark the way, 
Press forward e'en to reach heaven's blessed day ? 
" Enough that as the Master thou shouldst live : 
Faithful to death, thou shalt the crown receive." 





■lit 




692 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Onward, dear Jesus ! Safely by Thee led, 
Faint, yet pursuing, still the path I'll tread : 
Gird me with strength, then all my prayer shall be, 
" Father, e'en so ; it seemeth good to thee ; 
" And, as my days Thy strength shall ever be, 
While heaven's eternal glory awaiteth me ! " 



THROUGH DEATH TO LIFE. 



Ascribed to Harbaugh, an English author. 



HAVE you heard of the tale of the Aloe plant, 
Away in the sunny clime, 
By humble growth of a hundred years, 

It reaches its blooming time ; 
And then a wondrous bud at its crown 

Bursts into a thousand flowers ; 
This floral green, in its beauty seen, 

Is the pride of the tropical bowers, 
But the plant to the flower is a sacrifice, 
For it blooms but once, and in blooming dies ? 

Have you further heard of this Aloe plant, 

That grows in the sunny clime ! 
How every one of its thousand flowers, 

As they fall in the blooming time, 
Is an infant tree that fastens its roots 

In the place where they fall to the ground, 
And fast as they drop from the dying stem, 

Grow lively and lovely around ? 
By dying it liveth a thousandfold, 
In the young that springs from the death of the old. 






_^^ 




THE WAY TO HEAVEN. 693 

Have you heard the tale of the Pelican, 

The Arab's Gimel El Bahr ! 
That lives in the African solitudes, 

Where the birds that live lonely are ? 
Have you heard how it loves its tender young, 

And toils and cares for their good ? 
Tt brings them water from fountains afar, 

And fishes the sea for their food ; 
In famine it feeds them, what love can devise ! 
The blood of its bosom, and feeding them dies. 

Have you heard the tale they tell of the Swan, 

The snow-white bird of the lake ? 
It noiselessly floats on the silver wave, 

It silently sits on the brake — 
For it saves its song till the close of life, 

And then in the calm still even, • 

'Mid the golden rays of the setting sun, 

It sings as it soars to Heaven. 
And the blessed notes fall back from the skies, 
'Tis its only song, for in singing it dies. 

You have heard these tales, shall I tell you one, 

A greater and better than all — 
Have you heard of Him whom the Heavens adore, 

And before whom the hosts of them fall ? 
How He left His choirs and anthems above, 

For earth in its wailings and woes, 
To suffer the shame and pain of the cross, 

And die for the life of His foes ? 
O Prince of the noble! O Saviour Divine ! 
What sorrow or sacrifice equal to Thine ? 







A 




694 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Have you heard of this tale — the best of them all, 

The tale of the Holy and True ? 
He dies — but His life now in untold souls, 

Springs up in the world anew — 
His seed prevails, and is filling the earth, 

As the stars fill the sky above — 
He taught us to give up the love of life, 

For the sake of the life of love — 
His death is our life — His life is our gain, 
The joy for the tear, the peace for the pain. 

Now hear these tales, ye weary and worn, 

Who for others do give up your all. 
Our Saviour has told us the seed that would grow, 

Into earth's dark bosom must fall — 
And pass from the sight and die away, 
* And then will the fruit appear. 
The grain that seems lost in the earth below, 

Will return manifold in the ear. 
By death comes life — by loss comes gain ; 
Heaven's joy for the tear — heaven's peace for the pain ! 







A 










MISCELLANEOUS. 



Verily there is a reward for the righteous. — Ps. 58 : 11. 

Thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of the just. — Luke 14 : 14. 

Then shall the righteous shine forth as the sun in the kingdom of their 
Father.— Matt. 13 : 43. 

Wherefore comfort one another with these words. — 1 Thess. 4 : 18. 








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MISCELLANEOUS. 



A GOLDEN STRING. 



W. Blake. 



I GIVE you the end of a golden string, 
Only wind it into a ball 
It will lead you in at Heaven's gate 
Built in Jerusalem's wall. , 



HOW LONG, O LORD? 



Helen L. Parmlee. 



FOR us, the conflict and the toil, 
The sickness and the pain ; 
For them — the wiping of the tears 

Which shall not flow again. 
For us, the path o'ergrown with thorns 

And darkness round our way ; 
For them — the golden streets of heaven 
And God's eternal day ! 






^ 




698 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



IN SOME HOUR OF SOLEMN JUBILEE. 



S. T. Coleridge. 



IN some hour of solemn jubilee 
The massy gates of Paradise are thrown 
Wide open, and forth come, in fragments wild, 
Sweet echoes of unearthly melodies — 
And odors snatched from beds of amaranth, 
And dews that from the crystal river of Life 
Spring up on freshened wing, ambrosial gales ! 
The favored good man in his lonely walk 
Perceives them, and his silent spirit drinks 
Strange bliss, which he shall recognize in Heaven. 



JESUS MY HOPE OF HEAVEN. 

AH ! I shall soon be dying 
Time swiftly glides away ; 
Bnt, on my Lord relying, 
I hail the happy day. 

The day when I must enter 
Upon a world unknown ; 

My helpless soul I venture 
On Jesus Christ alone. 







A 




MISCELLANEOUS. 699 

He once, a spotless victim, 

Upon Mount Calvary bled ; 
Jehovah did afflict Him, 

And bruise Him in my stead. 

Hence all my hope arises, 

Unworthy as I am ; 
My soul most surely prizes 

The sin-atoning Lamb. 

To Him by grace united, 

I joy in Him alone ; 
And now, by faith, delighted, 

Behold Him on His throne. 

There He is interceding 

For all who on Him rest ; 
The grace from Him proceeding 

Shall waft me to His breast. 

There with the saints in glory 

The grateful song I'll raise, 
And chant my blissful story 

In high, seraphic lays. 







& 




700 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



DAYBREAK. 



R. H. Dana. 



" The Pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window opened to- 
wards the sun rising : the name of the chamber was Peace ; where he slept till 
break of day, and then he awoke and sang." — The Pilgrim's Progress. 

NOW, brighter than the host that all night long, 
In fiery armor up the heavens high 
Stood watch, thou comest to wait the morning's song, 
Thou comest to tell me day again is nigh. 
Star of the dawning, cheerful is thine eye ; 
And yet in the broad day it must grow dim. 
Thou seem'st to look on me, as asking why 
My mourning eyes with silent tears do swim ; 
Thou bid'st me turn to God, and seek my rest in Him. 

" Canst thou grow sad," thou say'st. " as earth grows 

bright, 
And sigh, when little birds begin discourse 
In quick, low voices, ere the streaming light 
Pours on their nests, as spring from day's fresh source? 
With creatures innocent thou must perforce 
A sharer be, if that thine heart be pure. 
And holy hour like this, save sharp remorse, 
Of ills and pains of life must be the cure, 
And breathe in kindred calm, and teach thee to endure." 






^hf. 




MISCELLANEOUS. 7OI 

I feel it calm. But there's a sombrous hue 

Along that eastern cloud of deep dull red ; 

Nor glitters yet the cold and heavy dew ; 

And ail the woods and hilltops stand outspread 

With dusky lights, which warmth nor comfort shed. 

Still — save the bird that scarcely lifts its song — 

The vast world seems the tomb of all the dead — 

The silent city emptied of its throng, 

And ended, all alike, grief, mirth, love, hate, and wrong. 

But wrong, and hate, and love, and grief, and mirth, 

Will quicken soon ; and hard, hot toil and strife, 

With headlong purpose, shake this sleeping earth 

With discord strange, and all that man calls life. 

With thousand scattered beauties nature's rife, 

And airs, and woods, and streams breathe harmonies ; 

Man weds not these, but taketh art to wife ; 

Nor binds his heart, with soft and kindly ties : 

He feverish, blinded ; lives, and feverish, sated, dies. 

And 'tis because man useth so amiss 

Her dearest blessings, Nature seemeth sad ; 

Else why should she in such fresh hour as this 

Not lift the veil, in revelation glad, 

From her fair face? It is that man is mad ! 

Then chide me not, clear star, that I repine 

When nature grieves : nor deem this heart is bad. 

Thou look'st towards earth ; but yet the heavens are 

thine, 
While I to earth am bound : When will the heavens 

be mine ? 






A 



702 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

If man would but his finer nature learn, 
And not in life fantastic lose the sense 
Of simpler things; could Nature's features stern 
Teach him be thoughtful ; then, with soul intense, 
I should not yearn for God to take me hence, 
But bear my lot, albeit in spirit bowed, 
Remembering humbly why it is, and whence : 
But when I see cold man, of reason proud, 
My solitude is sad — I'm lonely in the crowd. 



But not for this alone, the silent tear 

Steals to mine eyes, while looking on the morn, 

Nor for this solemn, hour : fresh life is near ; 

But all my joys ! they died when newly born. 

Thousands will wake to joy: while I, forlorn, 

And, like the stricken deer, with sickly eye, 

Shall see them pass. Breathe calm— my spirit's torn ; 

Ye holy thoughts, lift up my soul on high ! 

Ye hopes of things unseen, the far-off world bring nigh ! 



And when I grieve, oh ! rather let it be 
That I, whom Nature taught to sit with her 
On her proud mountains, by her rolling sea ; 
Who, when the winds are up, with mighty stir 
Of woods and waters, feel the quickening spur 
To my strong spirit ; who, as mine own child, 
Do love the flower, and in the ragged burr 
A beauty see ; that I this mother mild 
Should leave and go with care, and passions fierce and 
wild ! 






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MISCELLANEOUS. 703 

How suddenly that straight and glittering shaft 
Shot 'thwart the earth! In crown of living fire 
Up comes the Day! As if they conscious quaffed 
The sunny flood, hill, forest, city, spire 
Laugh in the wakening light. Go, vain Desire ! 
The dusky lights have gone : go thou thy way ! 
And pining Discontent, like them, expire ! 
Be called my chamber, Peace, when ends the day ; 
And let me with the dawn, like PILGRIM, sing and 
pray ! 



COME TO ME DREAMS OF HEAVEN 



Mrs. Felicia Hemans. 



COME to me, dreams of heaven ! 
My fainting spirit bear 
On your bright wings, by morning given, 
Up to celestial air. 

Away — far, far away, 

From bowers by tempests riven ! 
Fold me in blue, still, cloudless day, 
O blessed dreams of heaven ! 

Come but for one brief hour, 

Sweet dreams, and yet again 
O'er burning thoughts and memory shower 

Your soft, effacing rain ! 

Waft me where gales divine 

With dark clouds ne'er have striven ; 
Where living founts forever shine, 

O blessed dreams of heaven ! 







$&£. 




704 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



ON THIS SIDE SION'S HILL. 



[In the Life of the Rev. Andrew Fuller, the following hymn is referred to, as 
being a favorite of that eminent man during the latter pensive years of his life, 
and especially as being often repeated while pacing his room in the agonies of his 
last illness. The authorship is unknown.] 



I 



SOJOURN in a vale of tears, 

Alas, how can I sing ? 
My harp doth on the willows hang, 

Distuned in every string. 
My music is a captive's-chain ; 

Harsh sounds my ears do fill ; 
How shall I sing sweet Sion's song, 

On this side Sion's hill ? 

Yet lo ! I hear a joyful sound ; 

" Surely I quickly come ! " 
Each word much sweetness doth distil, 

Like a full honeycomb. 
And dost thou come, my dearest Lord ? 

And dost thou surely come ? 
And dost thou surely, quickly come? 

Methinks I am at home. 

Come, then, my dearest, dearest Lord, 

My sweetest, surest friend ; 
Come, for I loathe these Kedar tents ; 

Thy fiery chariots send. 







Y% 




MISCELLANEOUS. 705 

What have I here ? My thoughts and joys 

Are all packed up and gone ; 
My eager soul would follow them 

To Thine eternal throne. 

What have I in this barren land ? 

My Jesus is not here ; 
Mine eyes will ne'er be blest until 

My Jesus doth appear. 
My Jesus is gone up to heaven, 

To get a place for me ; 
For 't is His will that where he is 

There should His servants be. 

Canaan I view from Pisgah's top, 

Of Canaan's grapes I taste ; 
My Lord, who sends unto me here, 

Will send for me at last. 
I have a God that changeth not, 

Why should I be perplext ? 
My God that owns me in this world, 

Will own me in the next. 

Go fearless, then, my soul, with God, 

Into another room ; 
Thou, who hast walked with him here, 

Go see thy God at home. 
View death with a believing eye ; 

It hath an angel's face ; 
And this kind angel will prefer 

Thee to an angel's place. 
45 






-A 



j& 




706 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The grave seems but a 'fining pot 

Unto believing eyes ; 
For there the flesh shall lose its dross, 

And like the sun shall rise. 
The world, which I have known so well, 

Hath mocked me with its lies ; 
How gladly could I leave behind 

Its vexing vanities ! 

My dearest friends, they dwell above ; 

Them will I go and see ; 
And all my friends in Christ below 

Will soon come after me. 
Fear not the trump's earth-rending sound, 

Dread not the day of doom ; 
For He that is to be thy Judge, 

Thy Saviour is become. 

Blest be my God, that gives me light, 

Who in the dark did grope ; 
Blest be my God, the God of love, 

Who causeth me to hope. 
Here the words, signet, comfort, staff, 

And here is grace's chain ; 
By these, Thy pledges, Lord, I know 

My hopes are not in vain . 






jte 




MISCELLANEOUS. ' JOJ 



THE CHRISTIAN'S HOME. 

I HAVE a home above, — 2 Cor. v. I 
From sin and sorrow free ; — Rev. xxii. 3 
A mansion which eternal love— John xiv. 2 
Designed and formed for me. — Matt. xxv. 34 

My Father's gracious hand — Eph. i. 3 
Has built this sweet abode, — Heb. ix. 16 

From everlasting it was planned, — Eph. i. 11 
My dwelling-place with God. — Exod. xv. 17 

My Saviour's precious blood — Heb. xi. n, 12 

Has made my title sure ; — Heb. xi. 14 
He passed through death's dark raging flood — Ps. xlii. 

To make my rest secure. — Heb. x. 15 

The Comforter is come, — Acts ii. 2, 4 

The Earnest has been given; — Eph. i. 13, 14 

He leads me onward to the home — Rom. viii. 14 
Reserved for me in heaven. — 1 Pet. i. 4, 5 

Bright angels guard my way ; — Heb. i. 14 

His ministers of power, — Ps. ciii. 20 
Encamping round me night and day, — Ps. xxxi. 

Preserve in danger's hour. — 2 Kings iv. 16, 19 

Loved ones are gone before, — 1 Thess. iv. 14 
Whose pilgrim days are done; — Heb. xi. 13 

I soon shall greet them on that shore — I Thess. ii. 19 
Where partings are unknown. — 1 Thess. iv. 17 







yfy 




708 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

But more than all I long — Exod. xxxiii. 18 

HIS glories to behold, — John xvii. 24 
Whose smile fills all that radiant throng — Ps. iv. 7 

With ecstasy untold. — 1 Cor. ii. 6 

That bright yet tender smile — Num. iv. 25, 26 
(My sweetest welcome there) —Matt. xxv. 34 

Shall cheer me through the "little while" — John xiv. 
18, 19. 
I tarry for Him here. — I Thess. i. 10 

Thy love, Thou precious Lord, — S. Song i. 2 
My joy and strength shall be, — John xv. 10, 11 

Till Thou shalt speak the gladdening word — S. Song 
ii. 10 
That bids me rise to Thee. — S. Song ii. 13 

And then through endless days,- -Ps. cxlv. 2 
Where all Thy glories shine, — Rev. xxi. 23 

In happier, holier strains I'll praise — Rev. v. 9, 10 
The grace that made me Thine. — Eph. ii. 8 

Before the great I AM, — Ex. iii. 14 
Around His throne above, — Rev. xiv. 3 

The song of Moses and the Lamb — Rev. xv. 3 
We'll sing with deathless love. — S. Song viii. 7 








MISCELLANEOUS. 709 



THE SPIRIT GLEAMS. 



Sarah L. Russell. 



YE come to me, in midnight dreams, 
Oh glorious thoughts of heaven ; 
And glorious are the spirit-gleams, 

That to my soul are given 
Of that fair clime, across whose sky, 

No storm-clouds ever sweep ; 
Where grief ne'er dims the radiant eye, 
And none are seen to weep. 

Ye come to me amid the care, 

That clouds the weary day, 
And far from earth's polluted air, 

Ye waft my soul away. 
And when some grief beyond control 

Has bowed me unto earth, 
Ye whisper to my fainting soul, 

Of its immortal birth. 

Still come the tenderest thoughts of thee 

When evening hours creep on, 
And sad, regretful memory, 

Recalls the loved and gone. 
And though these mortal eyes no more 

Their cherished forms may see, 
Yet somewhere on thy radiant shore 

I know thev wait for me. 






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7 10 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Like fragrant zephyrs, from the shore 

Of some far ocean isle, 
Ye pass my fainting spirit o'er, 

And every care beguile. 
Oh when the dews of death hang chill 

Upon my dying brow, 
Sweet thoughts of heaven, be with me still 

And cheer my heart as now. 



THAT BEAUTIFUL WORLD ! 

WE'RE going home, we've had visions bright 
Of that holy land, that world of light, 
Where the long, dark night of time is past, 
And the morn of eternity dawns at last ; 
Where the weary saint no more shall roam, 
But dwell in a happy, peaceful home : 
Where the brow with sparkling gems is crown'd, 
And the waves of bliss are flowing round. 

Oh, that beautiful world ! oh, that beautiful world ! 

We're going home, we soon shall be 
Where the sky is clear, and* all are free ! 
Where the victor's song floats o'er the plains, 
And the seraph's antjiems blend with its strains ; 
Where the san rolls down its brilliant flood, 
And beams on a world that is fair and good ; 
Where stars, once dimm'd at nature's doom, 
Will ever shine o'er the new earth's bloom. 

Oh, that beautiful world ! oh, that beautiful world . 







)/£% 




MISCELLANEOUS. 71I 

'Mid the ransom'd throng, 'mid the sea of bliss, 

Mid the holy city's gorgeousness ; 

Mid the verdant plains, 'mid angels' cheer, 
'Mid the saints that round the throne appear; 
Where the conqueror's song, as it sounds afar, 
Is wafted on the ambrosial air ; 
Through endless years we then shall prove 
The depth of a Saviour's matchless love. 

Oh, that beautiful world ! oh, that beautiful world ! 



CHRIST IN HEAVEN. 

WHEN on my new-fledged wings I rise 
To tread those shores beyond the skies, 
What object first should meet my eyes, 
And where should I begin my joys ? 
I'll run through every golden street 
And ask each blissful soul I meet, 
Where is the God whose praise ye sing? 
O lead me, stranger, to your King ! 



SAINTS COMMUNING IN HEAVEN. 



Edward Henry Bickersteth. 



OFT in my mansion would some elder saint 
(For dignity was there humility) 
Linger and tell his story, or ask mine ; 
Or I would listen from an infant's lip 
A tale of such delightsomeness as poured 



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712 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

New meaning into words henceforth. And oft 

A group of the beautified, enlink'd 

In all the bonds of holy lineage, 

Would cluster underneath the trees of life, 

One eye kindling another, one deep thought 

Waking another thought, and this another, 

Until all bosoms overflow'd with love, 

And all perforce would hasten to the throne, 

And at their Father's footstool pour their hearts 

In one full tide of rapture forth. 

Sweet was the intercourse of saint with saint ; 
Nor less of saints with angels. Now appear'd 
The lustrous promise which ordain'd at first 
That in Messiah's Bridal, angelhood 
Should find its perfected felicity : 
Whether rejoicing in the Bridegroom's joy; 
Or drinking in the beauty of the Bride ; 
Or with some ward, as Oriel oft with me 
Retracing in astonish'd retrospect, 
How good from evil, light from darkness sprang 
By counsel of All-wise, Almighty love. 



DEGREES IN' HEAVEN. 



Bishop Mant. 



IF loftier posts superior state declare ; 
More virtuous acts if ampler meeds requite 
If brightest crowns on noblest prowess light, 
And well-sown fields a fuller harvest bear ; 







m 




MISCELLANEOUS. 7 1 3 

If thrones, dominions, princedoms, powers there are 
Which God's inferior hosts excel in might, 
If day's bright orb outshine the lamp of night. 

And Hesper's radiance the remotest star : 

Then shall the younger brethren of the sky, 
If right I scan the records of their fate, 

In varied ranks of social harmony 

God's mount encircle. Glorious is the state 

E'en of the lowest there : but seats more nigh 
The Sovereign's throne His greater servants wait. 



DESCRIPTION OF HEAVEN. 



Edward Henry Bickersteth. 



BEFORE us now it rose, builded aloft 
Upon the heavenly Zion. Never eye 
Of mortal man had seen, nor ear had heard, 
Though ravisrTd with the distant fame thereof, 
Glory like this ; the handiwork of God, 
And fashion'd of heaven's choice material., light, 
Through which the Light of Light translucent shone 
The mansion of Creation's Architect ; 
The palace of the Everlasting King : 
Its gates of pearl, its edifice of gold ; 
Its very streets of pure crystalline gold ; 
Its walls on twelve foundations superposed 
(Of which divine realities the earth 
Can only lend its feeble semblances), 
The jaspei streak'd with many a tender dye, 
The sapphire of celestial blue serene, 







jfr 




714 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

The agate once Chalcedon's peerless boast, 

The fathomless repose of emerald, 

The ruby, and blood-tinctured sardonyx, 

The chrysolite like amber sheathing fire, 

The beryl emulous of ocean's sheen, 

The opal-tinted topaz clear as glass, 

The soft pale purple of the chrysoprase, 

The Melibcean hyacinth, and last 

The lucid violet of amethyst. 

But not of pearly gates, or golden streets, 

Or bulwarks, or foundations built of jewels 

Thought we that day, or linger'd to admire ; 

For we were on our way to meet our God. 

The city had no temple ; for itself 
From wall to wall, from base to pinnacle, 
Was one harmonious veilless sanctuary, 
One Holiest of all : of which the shrine 
Reveal'd amid the clouds of Sinai 
Yielded the earliest pattern. This the house 
Which Israel's royal seer in symbol saw, 
And by the Spirit's hand on his described. 
This the beloved apostle, rapt in spirit 
To some high watch among the lasting hills, 
Beheld. Most blessed, beatific sight ! 
Here veil'd in radiant clouds, clouds only call'd 
From the supreme of brightness they enfolded, 
Was set the throne of Majesty in heaven. 
In front seven ever-burning lamps of fire, 
Which are the Spirits of God : and round about 
Mysterious cherubim, instinct with eyes, 
Fourfold in glory, symbolized in forms 







_JS^ 




MISCELLANEOUS. 71$ 

Of lion-like imperial royalty, 

Of patient sacrificial ministry, 

Of human, more than human sympathy, 

Of soaring eagle-plumed intelligence, 

Most highest of all creatures, whereof each 

Caught and reflected some peculiar rays, 

Some distinct aspect of his Lord ; but all 

Uniting in one everlasting song, 

Cried, " Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord of hosts." 

And here around were four-and-twenty thrones 

In wider circuit, like a starry belt, 

And on them four-and-twenty hierarchs 

In priestly apparel, but with kingly crowns, 

Sitting sublime. And in mid view, behold, 

What seem'd the likeness of a sea of glass. 

But not on glassy sea, or royal priests, 

Or cherubim of glory gazed we then ; 



PARADISE IN A SYMBOL. 



Christina G. Rossetti. 



GOLDEN-WINGED, silver-winged, 
Winged with flashing flame, 
Such a flight of birds I saw, 

Birds without a name : 
Singing songs in their own tongue 
(Song of songs) they came. 

One to another calling, 
Each answering each, 
One to another calling 






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HEAVEN IN SONG. 

In their proper speech : 
High above my head they wheeled, 
Far out of reach. 

On wings of flame they went and came 

With a cadenced clang, 
Their silver wings tinkled, 

Their golden wings rang, 
The wind it whistled through their wings 

Where in Heaven they sang. 

They flashed and they darted 

Awhile before mine eyes, 
Mounting, mounting, mounting still 

In haste to scale the skies — ■ 
Birds without a nest on earth, 

Birds of Paradise. 

Where the moon riseth not, 

Nor sun seeks the west, 
There to sing their glory 

Which they sing at rest, 
There to sing their love-song 

When they sing their best : 

Not in any garden 

That mortal foot hath trod, 
Nor in any flowering tree 

That springs from earthly sod, 
But in the garden where they dwell, 

The Paradise of GOD. 







W-. 




MISCELLANEOUS. 717 




THE LAND TO WHICH I'M GOING. 

WHEN the death-dews dim my eyes, 
And my bosom panting lies, 
Ebbing life's receding sighs 
Shorter, fainter growing ; 
Ere my spirit breaks her way, 
Through her prison-walls of clay, 
Into realms of endless day — 
The land to which I'm going. 

May the dear familiar band 

Of weeping friends that round me stand, 

Watching the decreasing sand, 

Fast and faster flowing, 
Chant some low strain, blending well 
With the solemn passing bell, 
Of the holy home to tell ; — 

The land to which I'm going. 

Let them sing "Thy Saviour, guide, 
For thy guilty sake that died, 
Even now is by thy side, 

Comfort-thoughts bestowing. 
Angelic forms their arms extend, 
And smileth many a long-lost friend 
Glad welcome to thy journey's end — 

The land to which thou'rt going. 






7 1 8 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Then, as the burden of their song 
In faint sweet cadence dies along, 
One happy, radiant look among 

That group of mourners throwing; 
Just as they faded from my view, 
I fain would breathe one fond adieu, 
Till in that land we meet anew — 

The land to which I'm going. 



THEY ARE NOT DEAD. 

" She is not dead, but sleepeth." 
" There is no death,— what seems so, is Transition." 

I CANNOT feel them dead, 
Those loved ones in the sky ! — 
To leave the paths that mortals tread, 
And soar where seraph feet are led, 
O'er sapphire pavements overhead, — 
Sure this is not to die ! 

To go, with pleasant dreams, 

To rest beneath Death's wave, — 
And wake where flow immortal streams, 
Where everything in sunshine gleams, — 
Amid the bright Shekinah's beams ! — 
Is not to find a grave ! 

To slumber 'neath the sod, — 

Like flowers at Frost-King's breath,— 
Then bursting from his icy rod, 






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MISCELLANEOUS. 

Shake off the valley's cumb'ring clod, 
And rise all beautified to God ! — 
This does not seem like death ! 

How can it e'er be said 

Of those who live on high ? — 
When the dark river round them spread, 
They meekly bowed their waiting head, 
And laid it on a downy bed ! — 
But Christians do not die ! 

They only go to rest, — 

As goes the bird and bee ; — 
They wake the white-robed angels' guest 
Like them in wedding garments drest, — 
With them to share the banquet blest 

Of immortality! 

Oh ! no, — they are not dead ! 

For Christians cannot die ! — 
But if like them we patient tread 
The hidden path where they were led, — 
I know a voice all truth hath said, 

We'll meet them by-and-by ! 



719 








7 2 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



THE CHARMER. 



Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, 




[" Socrates. — ' However, you and Simmias appear to me as if you wished to 
sift this subject more thoroughly, and to be afraid, like children, lest on the soul's 
departure from the body, winds should blow it away.' .... 

" Upon this, Cebes said, ' Endeavor to search us better, Socrates. . . Per- 
haps there is a childish spirit in our breast, that has such a dread. Let us endeavor 
to persuade him not to be afraid of death, as of hobgoblins.' 

" ' But you must charm, him every day,' said Socrates, ' until you have quieted 
his fears.' 

" ' But whence, Oh Socrates,' he said, • can we procure a skilful charmer for 
such a case, novi you are about to leave us.' 

'"Greece is wide, Cebes,' he replied, 'and in it surely there are skilful men, 
and there are also many barbarous nations, all of which you should search, seeking 
such a charmer, sparing neither money nor toil, as there is nothing on which you 
can more reasonably spend your money." " — Last conversation of Socrates with his 
disciples, as narrated by Plato in the PhaedoJ] 

WE need that CHARMER, for our hearts are sore, 
With longings for the things that may not be, 
Faint for the friends that shall return no more, 
Dark with distrust, or wrung with agony. 

What is this life ? and what to us is death ? 

Whence came we ? whither go? and where are those 
Who, in a moment, stricken from our side, 

Passed to that land of shadow and repose ? 

Are they all dust ? and dust must we become? 

Or are they living in some unknown clime? 
Shall we regain them in that far-off home, 

And live anew beyond the waves of time ? 





-ltl£ 




MISCELLANEOUS. 721 

Man divine ! — on Thee our souls have hung, 
Thou wert our teacher in these questions high, 

But ah ! this day divides Thee from our side, 
And veils in dust Thy kindly guiding eye. 

Where is that CHARMER, whom thou bid'st us seek ? 

On what far shores may His sweet voice be heard ? 
When shall these questions of our yearning souls 

Be answered by the bright Eternal Word ? 

So spake the youth of Athens, weeping round 
When Socrates lay calmly down to die ; 

So spake the sage, prophetic of the hour 

When earth's fair Morning Star should rise on high. 

They found Him not, those youths of soul divine, 

Long seeking, wandering, watching on life's shore- 
Reasoning, aspiring, yearning for the light, 

Death came and found them — doubting as before. 

But years passed on — and lo ! the Charmer came — 
Pure, silent, sweet, as comes the silver dew, — 

And the world knew him not — he walked alone — 
Encircled only by his trusting few. 

Like the Athenian sage rejected, scorned, 

Betrayed, condemned, his day of doom drew nigh, 

He drew his faithful few more closely round, 
And told them that his hour was come to die. 

" Let not your heart be troubled," then He said ; 
My father's house hath mansions large and fair ; 

1 go before you to prepare your place ; 

I will return to take you with me there. 
46 






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'22 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



And since that hour the awful Foe is charmed, 
And life and death are glorified and fair. 

Whither He went we know— the way we know — 
And with firm step press on to meet Him there. 



THE ALPINE SHEPHERD. 



Mrs. Maria Lowell. 



AFTER our child's untroubled breath 
Up to the Father took its way, 
And on our home the shade of death 
Like a long twilight haunting lay, 

And friends came round with us to weep 

Her little spirit's swift remove, 
This story of the Alpine sheep 

Was told to us by one we love : — 

'* They, in the valley's sheltering care, 
Soon crop the meadow's tender prime, 

And when the sod grows brown and bare, 
The shepherd strives to make them climb, 

" To airy shelves of pastures green, 
That hang along the mountain's side, 

Where grass and flowers together lean, 

And down through mist the sunbeams slide. 

" But naught can tempt the timid things 
That steep and rugged path to try, 

Though sweet the shepherd calls and sings, 
And seared below the pastures lie, — 



afUpu 



VI EW OF HEAVEN. 



Edward Henry Bickersteth. 




MISCELLANEOUS. 723 

" Till in his arms their lambs he takes, 

Along the dizzy verge to go, 
Then, heedless of the lifts and breaks, 

They follow on o'er rocks and snow. 

" And in those pastures lifted fair, 
More dewy soft than lowland mead, 

The shepherd drops his tender care, 
And sheep and lambs together feed." 

This parable, by nature breathed, 

Blew on me as the south-wind free 
O'er frozen brooks that float unsheathed 

From icy thraldom to the sea. 

A blissful vision through the night 

Would all my happy senses sway, 
Of the good shepherd on the height, 

Or climbing up the stony way. 

Holding our little lamb asleep ; 

And, like the burden of the sea, 
Sounded that voice along the deep, 

Saying, " Arise, and follow me" 



k OR we were on our way to meet our God, 
Children about to see their Father's face. 
But at last 






4&. 




724 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

It seem'd as rising from the sapphire throne 

Messiah led us forth at large to view 

The city Himself had build ed and prepared 

After His Father's counsel for His Bride, 

A city, or a temple, or a home, 

Or rather all in one. Enrich'd it was 

With every exquisite design of love, 

And every form of beauty. Not a film 

Stain'd its bright pavement of transparent gold ; 

Not a harsh murmur vex'd its silences, 

Or with the melodies of angels jarr'd. 

No cloud darken'd its empyrean. Joy 

Held court here in its own metropolis. 

And through the midst the crystal river flow'd 

Exhaustless from the everlasting throne, 

Shaded on either side by trees of life 

Which yielded in unwearying interchange 

Their ripe vicissitude of monthly fruits 

Amid their clustering leaves medicinal ; 

Of fruits twelve manner : for eternity, 

Measured by ages limitless to man, 

Has intervals and periods of bliss 

And high recurring festivals that stand 

On the sidereal calends mark'd in light. 

Through these celestial groves the Lamb of God 

Led us delighted. Every sight and sound 

Ravish'd the sense : and every loving heart 

Reflected joy to joy and light to light, 

Like crystals in a cave flashing with fire, 

And multiplied our bliss a million-fold. 

O blessed royal priesthood ! priests and kings 

Under the Great High Priest and Prince of Peace, 





4&= 




MISCELLANEOUS. ?2$ 

Who now in tender grace assign'd to each 
His priestly abode within the House of God 
(So Solomon around his temple built 
The chambers for its stated ministries), 
Where each might be alone with God, or mix 
In converse with his fellow-saints at will, 
Adorn'd with those peculiar gifts He knew, 
Who knows us better than we know ourselves, 
Would gratify those tastes and feelings most 
Himself had planted : delicate delights ; 
If little, loving from their littleness, 
Which nought but Love could ever have devised ; 
If rich and large, more precious from the love 
That gave them than from excellence or cost ; 
The bounties of a Father's thoughtfulness, 
The tokens of the Bridegroom's tenderness. 
Gifts of the Spirit and with His love instinct. 



DESIRING HEAVEN. 



L. Hartsough. 



LET me go where saints are going. 
To the mansions of the blest ; 
Let me go where my Redeemer 

Has prepared His people's rest. 
I would gain the realms of brightness, 

Where they dwell for evermore ; 
I would join the friends that wait me, 
Over on the other shore. 






A 




726 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Let me go ; 'tis Jesus calls me ; 

Let me gain the realms of day ; 
Bear me over, angel pinions ; 

Longs my soul to be away. 

Let me go where none are weary — 

Where is raised no wail of woe ; 
Let me go and bathe my spirit 

In the raptures angels know. 
Let me go, for bliss eternal 

Lures my soul away, away, 
And the victor's song triumphant 

Thrills my heart ; I cannot stay. 

Let me go ; why should I tarry? 

What has earth to bind me here ? 
What but cares and toils and sorrows ? 

What but death and pain and fear? 
Let me go. for hopes most cherished, 

Blasted round me often lie, 
O ! I've gathered brightest flowers, 

But to see them fade and die. 

Let me go where tears and sighing 

Are for evermore unknown, 
Where the joyous songs of glory 

Call me to a happier home. 
Let me go — I'd cease this dying, 

I would gain life's fairer plains, 
Let me join the myriad harpers, 

Let me chant their rapturous strains. 






b. , , ^jy 




MISCELLANEOUS. 72J 

Let me go, O speed my journey, 

Saints and seraphs lure away, 
O ! I almost feel the raptures 

That belong to endless day. 
Oft methinks I hear the singing 

That is only heard above, 
Let me go, O ! speed my going, 

Let me go where all is love. 



DREAMS OF HEAVEN. 



Mrs. F. D. Hemans. 



DREAM'ST thou of heaven? — what dreams are 
thine, 
Fair child, fair, gladsome child, 
With eyes that like the dew-drop shine, 
And bounding footsteps wild ? 

Tell me what hues the immortal shore 

Can wear, my bird, to thee, 
Ere yet one shadow hath passed o'er 

Thy glance and spirit free ? 

" O, beautiful is heaven and bright, 

With long, long summer-days; 
I see its lilies gleam in light, 

Where many a fountain plays. 

"And there, unchecked, methinks I rove, 

And seek where young flowers lie, 
In vale and golden-fruited grove, 

Flowers that are not to die ! " 





4te 



728 



HEAVEN IN SONG. 



Thou poet of the lonely thought, 

Sad heir of gifts divine ! 
Say, with what solemn glory fraught 

Is heaven in dreams of thine? 

11 O, where the living waters flow 

Along that radiant shore, 
My soul, a wanderer here, shall know 

The exile-thirst no more. 

" The burden of a stranger's heart, 

Which here along I bear, 
Like the night-shadow shall depart, 

With my first wakening there. 

" And, borne on eagles' wings afar, 
Free thought shall claim its dower, 

From every realm, from every star, 
Of glory and of power." 

O woman ! with the soft, sad eye 

Of spiritual gleam, 
Tell me, of those bright worlds on high. 

How doth thy fond heart dream ? 

By thy sweet, mournful voice I know, 

On thy pale brow I see, 
That thou hast loved in fear and woe ; 

Say, what is heaven to thee ? 

" O, heaven is where no secret dread 
May haunt love's meeting hour; 

Where from the past no gloom is shed 
O'er the heart's chosen bower ; 






^£ 




MISCELLANEOUS. 729 

" Where every severed wreath is bound ; 

Where none have heard the knell 
That smites the heart with that deep sound, 

Farewell, beloved — farewell." 



EMPLOYMENT IN HEAVEN. 



Edward Henry Bickersteth. 



SERVICE there is rest, 
Rest, service : for the Paradise of saints, 
Like Eden with its toilless husbandry, 
Has many plants to tend, and flowers to twine, 
And fruit trees in the garden of the soul, 
That ask the culture of celestial skill. 
Some wander'd amid vines and flowery meads, 
And from the grateful lips of angels learn'd 
More virtues than he knew who spake of trees 
From cedars to the hyssop on the wall. 
Some perfected their skill in dance and song, 
With lyre or lute accompanied, and made 
These woods and valleys vocal with sweet sounds, 
Sweeter than those which from a thousand birds 
Fill Vallombrosa's vale in spring-time. Here 
It was perpetual spring. Some clomb with ease, 
Swift as the winds, the everlasting hills, 
And from their summit bathed in light survey'd 
The glorious landscape. Some in silence mused : 
Heaven has its calm unbroken solitudes 
For prayer and lonely meditation meet. 
And some in clusters, walking or recline, 








J& 




730 HEAVEN IN SONG. 

Heard from an elder saint or guardian spirit 
The awful story of the past, or bent 
Over the mystic chart of prophecy, 
Brother to brother saying, " It is done. 
The day-spring is at hand." 



ENTERING HEAVEN. 



H 



ERE is no bootless quest; 
The city's name is Rest ; 

Here shall no fear appall ; 

Here love is all in all ; 
Here shalt thouwin thy ardent soul's desire ; 
Here clothe thee in thy beautiful attire. 

Lift, lift thy wondering eyes ! 

Yonder is Paradise, 

And this fair shining band 

Are spirits of that land ! 
And these that throng to meet thee are thy kin, 
Who have awaited thee, redeemed from sin ! 
The city gates unfold ; enter, O enter in ! 



EPITOME OF HEAVEN. 



Edward Henry Bickersteth. 



ZION is our home ; 
Jerusalem, the city of our God. 
O happy home ! O happy children here ! 
O blissful mansions of our Father's house ! 






A 




MISCELLANEOUS. 731 

O walks surpassing Eden for delight ! 

Here are the harvests reap'd once sown in tears ; 

Here is the rest by ministry enhanced : 

Here is the banquet of the wine of heaven, 

Riches of glory incorruptible, 

Crowns, amaranthine crowns of victory, 

The voice of harpers harping on their harps, 

The anthems of the holy cherubim, 

The crystal river of the Spirit's joy, 

The Bridal palace of the Prince of Peace, 

The Holiest of Holies — God is here. 



ESTIMATE OF HEAVEN. 



James Shirley. 



WHAT a poor value do men set on heaven ! 
Heaven, the perfection of all that can 
Be said, or thought, riches, delight, or harmony, 
Health, beauty ; and all this not subject to 
The waste of time ; but in their height eternal ; 
Lost for a pension or a poor spot of earth, 
Favor of greatness, or an hour's faint pleasure, 
As men, in scorn of a true flame that's near, 
Shall run to light their tapers at a glow-worm. 







$jbr 




732 HEAVEN IN SONG. 



LAND IN SIGHT. 

[The old commander drew near the end of the eventful voyage of life, and be- 
came too feeble to hold any connected conversation ; he said to the friends who 
gathered about his dying bed, in the impressive language of the sea, " Land in 
sight." Once more, just before he expired, he was asked how he now felt, and if 
Christ was still precious to him. He replied faintly, " Let go the anchor," fell 
back upon his pillow, and died.] 



L 



AND in sight, 
The glorious land of light ! 
E'en now its pearly gates my eyes behold, 
Adorned with jewels rare, 
Oh, sight most wondrous fair ! 
And streets with pavements all of shining gold. 

Land in sight, 

The glorious land of light ! 
E'en now its happy, sainted throng I see, 

And on my eager ear, 

Full, sweet, and rising clear, 
Swells the glad tide of holy harmony. 

Land in sight, 

The glorious land of light! 
There sits the Holy One, once crucified, 

Who all our sufferings bore 

When human flesh he wore 
And shed for us his blood, a crimson tide. 

Upon the strand 

Of the bright, better land, 







ft% 




MISCELLANEOUS. 733 

My anchor cast secure within the veil, 

Oh, blest and heavenly soil, 

No pain, nor care, nor toil, 
Nor load of sin thy children ere bewail. 

The stream is past, 

Heaven's portal gained at last ! 
Never again, my soul, from Christ to roam. 

Shout thou through endless days 

His great and endless praise. 
Who brought the captive exile safely home. 







-^ 




INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



PAGE 

A few more years shall roll 606 

After the Christian's tears 140 

After our child's untroubled breath. 722 

Ah ! I shall soon be dying 698 

Ah, never then 438 

Ah ! this heart is void and chill 556 

A Home in Heaven ! what a joyful 

thought 101 

Ah ! how empty is the heart 581 

A little while to toil along 539 

A little longer yet, a little longer 550 

A little song has come to me 566 

" A little while " 558 

A little longer still, — patience' be- 
loved ! 615 

"A little while," so spake our 

gracious Lord 513 

All along the mighty ages 285 

All day sigh on the shore the surging 

billows 37 

Alleluia ! let the holy sounds of 

cheerful praises ring 358 

Alleluia ! sweetest music, voice of 

everlasting joy ! 364 

A light there is above which plainly 

shows 272 

All must die ! there's no redemption 491 

Alone ! to land alone upon that shore 66 

Angel choirs on high are singing 365 

An aged man, by sorrow bowed 554 

And at Oriel's signal came 100 

And lo, upon the extreme verge of 

cloud 331 

And O beloved voices, upon which. . 329 

And is there, Lord a rest 3S0 

And whence this weariness 600 

Angel voices sweetly singing 50 

Angels bright 295 

A pilgrim here I wander 661 



PAGE 

A rest here have I never 409 

As distant lands beyond the sea 299 

Arise, my soul ! fly up and run 132 

Arise, my soul, arise 446 

Around the throne of God in heaven. 139 
Around them, bright with endless 

spring perpetual roses bloom 368 

Art thou a wanderer ? doth no loved 

one's smile 388 

As a traveller returning 665 

Ascend, beloved, to the joy 160 

An eager homebound traveller to the 

goal 673 

A song of a boat 523 

As through the artist's intervening 

glass ^ 106 

As when the weary traveller gains. . 589 

At home. For thou hast reached. . . 57 

Away with death away 92 

Away to the land of light 637 

A weary, wandering soul am 1 679 

Bathed in unfallen sunlight 255 

Beautiful Zion ! city renowned 149 

Before us now it rose, builded aloft. 713 
Beside a massive gateway built up in 

years gone by 312 

Beyond the hills where suns go 

down 501 

Beyond the smiling and the weeping 519 

Brethren, while we sojourn here; . . . 676 
Bright sun ! thou dost blessedly 

shine 262 

By John was seen a wondrous sight. 94 

Call it not dying, when we rest. . . . 638 

Christ let me come to thee ! 435 

Christ let me come to thee ! 595 

Church of the ever-living God 370 








736 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



Clear fount of light ! my native land 

on high 3 

Clear fount of light ! my native land 

on high 452 

" Could we but know " 627 

Come, brethren, let us onward 620 

Come forth ! come on, with solemn 

song 652 

Come Lord, my head doth burn, my 

heart is sick 437 

Come, let us join our friends above. 476 

Come, let us go to heaven, — the way. 667 

Come, let us lift our j.oyful eyes 672 

Come, let us anew our journey 

pursue 675 

Come on, companions of our way. . . 668 

Come to me, dreams of heaven 703 

Come to the land of peace 102 

"Come up hither, come away" 111 

Dim shadows gather thickly, and up 

the misty stair they climb 629 

Does the road wind up-hill all the 

way 688 

Down below, the wild November 

whistling 43 

Down to the margin of the shad- 
owy river 324 

Dream'st thou of Heaven ? — what 

dreams are thine 727 

Drifting away 38 

Dropping down the troubled river. . 528 

Earth with all its sin and sadness.. 565 

Equal to angels are our beloved 294 

Ere the rose and the roseate hues of 

the dawn 145 

Eternity ! eternity ! .• 49 

Fade, fade, each earthly joy 453 

Far from these narrow scenes of 

night 9 

Farewell ! I gae to sleep ; but when. 254 

Far from the discord loud 404 

Far from his breezy home of cliff and 

billow 579 

Father, I long, I faint to see 339 

Forever with the Lord 171 



" Forever with the Lord " 

For us the conflict and the toil 

For we were on our \ V ?y. to meet our 
God .' 

From this vale with mists hung over 

From this bleak hill of storms 

From out this dim and gloomy hol- 
low 

From thee, my God, my joys shall 
rise 

Give me my scallop-shell of quiet. . 

Give me the wings of faith to rise. . . 

Give me the lowest place ; not that I 

dare 

Glorious things of thee are spoken. . 



page 

59° 
697 

723 



471 

671 
337 

274 
265 



Golden-winged, silver- winged 715 

Hail the heavenly scenes of peace. . 54 

Hail ! happy day 540 

Ha ! yon burst of crystal splendor. .. 81 
Hark ! hark ! my soul ! angelic songs 

are swelling 415 

Have you heard of the tale of the aloe 

plant 692 

Hear what God the Lord hath 

spoken 1 

Heavenward doth our journey tend. 582 
Here may the band that now in tri- 
umph shines 98 

Here may the band that now in tri- 
umph shines 347 

Her streets with burnished gold are 

paved round 270 

Here is no bootless quest 73c 

High in yonder realms of light 177 

High on the hills the wild bird hath 

its nest 317 

High the angel choirs are raising. ... 34 
Hinder me not ! — the path is long 

and dreary 442 

His sceptre is the rod of Righteous- 
ness 271 

Hope of our hearts, O Lord, appear. 128 

Home ! ah how soft and sweet. ..... 659 

How bright the bloom, those heav- 
enly bowers 63 

How happy every child of grace 542 






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INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 




PAGE 

How fain my joyous heart would 

sing 141 

How sweetly rest at home those who 

have acted 381 

Hush! Heaven! he whispered soft 

and clear 475 

I am wandering down life's shady 

path 612 

1 am pressing on to the slippery 

shore 330 

I cannot feel them dead 718 

I count the hope no day-dream of the 

mind 20 

If ever life should seem 374 

If loftier posts superior state declare 712 

If this our little life is but a day 14 

If with such passing beauty, choice 

delights 168 

I gazed down life's dim labyrinth 648 

I give you the end of a golden string. 697 

I hail you not, Mansions divine 340 

I built my nest by a pleasant stream 424 

I have a home alone — 2 cor. v : 1 . . . . 707 

I hear thee speak of the better land. 74 

I John, a servant of the Lord 275 

I journey forth rejoicing 507 

I know not where those blessed man- 
sions lie 269 

I know the walls are jasper 257 

I love (and have some cause to love) 

the earth 287 

I love to think of Heaven where I 

shall meet 471 

I long to behold him arrayed 4S9 

I love yon pale blue sky; it is the 

floor 576 

I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger 614 

I'm but a stranger here 664 

I'm far frae my hame, and I'm 

weary oftenwhiles 531 

I'm returning, not departing 642 

I'm kneeling at the threshold, weary, 

faint and sore 522 

I'm weary of straying ; O fain would 

I rest 3S9 

I'm wearin' awa, Jean 517 

I'm weary — weary — let me go 450 




PAGE 

In amaze 103 

In the Christian's home in glory * 417 

In the fair gardens of celestial peace 293 
In the fount of Life perennial the 

parched heart its thirst would slake 239 

Into the city in silence deep 639 

Into the silent land ! 687 

In some hour of solemn jubilee 69S 

I praised the earth in beauty seen.. . 73 

I saw a little blade of grass 447 

I see them far away 4S 

I send the joys of earth away ■ 473 

Is there a day 405 

I stand upon the river's verge 514 

I sojourn in a vale of tears 704 

Is this the way, my Father? 'Tis 

my child 686 

It kindles all my soul 3 

It lies around us like a cloud 29 

I thank thee, Father, for that word 

of peace 391 

It is not death to die 68r 

It is told me I must die 634 

I've been thinking of home, of "my 

Father's house" 547 

I was no stranger in a strange land 

there 105 

I would not live alway, — live alway 

below 552 

I would go home ! Fain to my Fath- 
er's house 440 

Jerusalem, high tower, thy glorious 

walls 182 

Jerusalem! Jerusalem! 230 

Jerusalem, my happy home 137 

Jerusalem my home 231 

Jerusalem on high 228 

Jerusalem the golden 180 

Jerusalem the holy ! 169 

Jerusalem, thou city fair and high. . 499 

Jesus, guide our way 654 

Jesus, still lead on 683 

Jesus, to thy dear wounds we flee. . . 131 

Joyfully, joyfully onward I move 121 

Joyfully, joyfully, onward we move. 669 

Joyful words, — we meet again 150 





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INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



PAGE 

Keep me not here ! a voice from 

Heaven is calling 557 

Know ye the land ? Ah ! not on 

earth it lies 678 

Know ye the land ? — on earth there 

vainly sought 174 

" Land a-head ! " its fruits are wav- 
ing 124 

Land in sight 732 

Launch thy boat, mariner ! 645 

Let me be with thee where thou art. 472 

Let me go, the day is breaking 508 

Let me go where saints are going. . . 725 
Let not your hearts be troubled : ye 

believe 118 

Light's abode celestial Salem 235 

Light waits for us in heaven : inspir- 
ing thought 56 

Longing evermore for the Fatherland 

above 561 

Long in this wild, wild country 574 

Lord God, now open wide Thy 

heaven 597 

Lord of the worlds above 273 

Lord, I believe a rest remains 422 

Lord ! leadeth not this desert land.. 119 

Lord of earth thy bounteous hand. .. 13 
Lord, the waves are breaking o'er 

me and around 526 

Look thou no further, but affix thine 

eye 4 

Lo ! the day, the day of life, the day 

of unimagined light 58 

Lo ! what a glorious sight appears. . 129 

Meet again ! yes, we shall meet 

again 478 

My days are gliding swiftly by 624 

My Father's house on high 550 

My feet are worn and weary with the 

march 530 

'Mid scenes of confusion and crea- 
ture complaints 122 

My God, I wait for thee 545 

'Mid the pastures green of the blessed 

isles 338 

My Jesus is gone up to heaven 104 



PAGE 
My rest is in heaven, my rest is not 

here 377 

My Saviour whom absent I love 334 

My soul amid this stormy world 505 

My soul there is a countrie 349 

My task is o'er, my work is done. . . . 571 

My thirsty soul desires her drought. 243 
My thoughts surmount these lower 

skies no 

" No graves are there " 16 

No joy is true, save that which hath 

no end 36 

No! no! It is not dying 619 

No night shall be in heaven, — no 

gathering gloom 15 

No quiet here ! 394 

Nor eye, ear, thought, can take the 

height 79 

No shadows gather 406 

No shadows yonder ! 588 

No sickness there 18 

No sooner had the Almighty ceased, 

but all 362 

No tossing of the burning head 383 

Not from Jerusalem alone 689 

Not here ! not here ! not where the 

sparkling waters 52 

Not long, not long ! — The spirit-wast- 
ing fever 374 

Not now, my child — a little more 

rough tossing 537 

Now, brighter than the host that all 

night long 700 

Now let our souls, on wings sublime 125 

Now Lord let me go ! — 1 443 

Now the pilgrim, sad and weary. . . . 251 

Oh ! beams there, Lord, upon Thine 

own 318 

O'er the hills the sun is setting 541 

O for the peace which floweth as a 

river 427 

Oft in my mansion would some elder 

saint 711 

Oft weeping memory sits alone 344 

O God, who far from mortal sight. . . 448 

O happy saints, who dwell in light. . 333 





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INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



739 



PAGE 

Oh birds from out the east, oh birds 

from out the west 399 

Oh, could our thoughts and wishes 

fly 423 

Oh ! for the calm beyond the storms 585 

Oh for the robes of whiteness ! 496 

Oh for a sweet inspiring ray 363 

Oh for thfe wings of faith and love . . . 490 

Oh, for the pearly gates of heaven. . . 135 
Oh, had I, my Saviour, the wings of 

a dove 422 

Oh had I the wings like yonder bird. 432 
Oh, heaven is nearer than mortals 

think 31 

Oh, I hear them tell of a country 

fair 15S 

O mother dear Jerusalem ! 185 

Oh, paradise must show more fair. . . 221 

Oh, paradise must fairer be 173 

Oh! talk t.> me of heaven ! I love... 40 

Oh, with what congratulations 328 

Oh, what a mighty change 416 

Oh when shall we sweetly remove. . . 335 

O when did lips such grace declare ? 305 

Oh the delights, the heavenly joys. . 342 

Oh! stars of glory, lights of heaven. 283 

Oh Spirit freed from bondage 3S7 

Oh, weary, halting pilgrim 592 

Oh ! who will show me those de- 
lights on high ? 151 

O angel of the land of peace 560 

O Beauteous God, uncircumscribed 

treasure 147 

O Christ, how good and fair 502 

O heavenly Jerusalem 152 

O Heaven ! sweet Heaven ! the home 

of the blest 457 

O long to be installed in the throne. 459 

O luce qui mortalibus 449 

O merciful One 434 

Once in a dream I saw the flowers. . 59 

One sweetly solemn thought 632 

On, in the morn's first pleasant smile 653 

Only one crossing over » 623 

Only waiting till the shadows 546 

On, on, through the storm and the 

billow 655 

One is weary with this load 292 



PAGE 

O paradise, O paradise 462 

Open is the starry hall 163 

Open, O gate of sleep ! 390 

Open ye gates, for the battle hath 

ended 309 

O tell me no more of this world's vain 

store 464 

O to be there 431 

O safe at home, where the dark 

tempter roams not 414 

O sing to me of Heaven 622 

O sweet home-echo on the pilgrim's 

way 569 

Our beloved have departed 635 

Our country is Immanuel's ground . . 134 
Our course is onward, onward into 

light 2 

Over the river they beckon to me. . . 306 
O where shall the soul find her rest 

and her home 433 

Palms of glory raiment bright 354 

Patient art Thou, Lord, and gra- 
cious 72 

Permit mine eyes to see 456 

Pilgrims we are, to Canaan bound. . 633 

Pilgrims — on! the day is dawning. .. 625 

Region of life and light 353 

Rest for the toiling hand 420 

Rest, weary soul 425 

Rise, crowned with light, imperial 

Salem, rise 325 

Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings 474 

Safe home, safe home in port ! 408 

Save me Lord ! thou Judge eternal. 43S 
Say, why should friendship grieve for 

those 346 

Seraphs with elevated strains 366 

Service there is rest 729 

Shall we gather at the river 631 

She hath but passed to Heaven as if 

from sleep 303 

She is in Heaven ! How sweet the 

phrase 304 

Should nature's charms, to please 

the eye 491 






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740 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



PAGE 

Since o'er thy footstool here below. . 27 

Sing with me, sing with me 369 

Sitting lonely, dusky shadows 533 

So in our simple creed 525 

So near, and yet so far, that fane of 

gold 626 

Soon and forever ! 46 

Soul, when your flesh dissolves to 

dust 326 

Spirit ! thy labor is o'er ! 398 

Surely yon heaven, where angels see 

God's face 24 

Star of morn and even 470 

Sweet glories rush upon my sight. . . 465 

Sweet must it be to dwell secure 388 

Sweet place, sweet place alone 467 

Tell me ye winged winds 375 

The beauty of my native land 452 

The dew is on the summer's green- 
est grass 455 

The earth, all light and loveliness in 

summer's golden hours 479 

The favored of their judge in tri- 
umph move 141 

The golden palace of my God 117 

The God of Abraham praise 153 

The holy Jerusalem 167 

The land beyond the sea 64 

"The land is wondrous fair" the 

Angel said 281 

The last of the hours iniquity towers 214 

The leaves around me falling- 573 

" The loved and lost ! " why do we 

call them lost ? 284 

The music of Heaven is attuned to a 

measure 361 

The saints on earth, when sweetly 

they converse 21 

The sands of time are sinking 609 

The song of Heaven is ever new, for 

daily thus 362 

The stream is calmest when it nears 

the tide 382 

The tide has ebbed away 549 

The time is very near 68 

The toil is very long and I am tired. 426 

The roseate hues of early dawn 466 



The way seems long, dear leader ; 

and my feet 691 

The world is very evil 200 

There's a beautiful land by the 

spoiler untrod 266 

There's a sound of feet in the desert 

track 658 

There breathes no sigh from those 

calm hearts in that abode of peace 56 
There came, sometimes, brightly 

beaming 586 

There's a gate at the close of the 

pathway of light 591 

There is a land like Eden fair 25 

There is a fold whence none can 

stray 136 

There is a land mine eye hath seen. 126 

There is a land of pure delight 127 

There is a world of perfect bliss 130 

There is a blessed home 75 

There is a dwelling-place above 8 

There is an hour of peaceful rest 109 

There is an hour of hallowed peace. 418 
There are refreshments sweeter far 

than sleep 504 

There is a house not made with 

hands 564 

There is a land immortal 641 

There is a place of sacred rest 26S 

There is a river pure and bright 264 

There is no night in heaven ..." 61 

There remaineth, it is written 403 

These are the crowns that we shall 

wear 226 

They are perfectly blest the re- 
deemed and the free 357 

They are gathering homeward from 

every land 3°8 

They have struggled away from the 

city of tears... 677 

This advent moon shines cold and 

clear 562 

This is not my place of resting 5S4 

Thirsts my weary spirit 194 

This world is bright and fair we 

know 112 

This world is all a fleeting show 116 

This world I deem 7 6 







=& 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



741 




PAGE 

Thou art mine, yes, still thou art 

mine own 2S8 

Thou wilt never grow old 299 

Through the cross comes the crown ; 

when the cares of this life 6 44 

Through night to light, and though 

to mortal eyes 6S4 

Throughout the changing scenes of 

earth 510 

Thus heaven is gathering one by one 

in its capacious breast 20 

Thy way, not mine, O Lord 682 

Time is winging us away 114 

Tis first the true and then the beau- 
tiful 397 

'Tis not a silent land ! 32 

'Tis thus they press the hand and 

part 345 

To dream a troubled dream and 

then awaken 572 

To me, though neither voice nor 

sound 159 

To Jesus the crown of my hope ! '. . . . 492 
Tossed on the billows far and wide. . 57S 
Two worlds there are. To one our 

eyes we strain 258 

Upon the shore 115 

Wake, awake, for night is flying. . . . 143 
We are pilgrims bound for the bet- 
ter land 64S 

Weary and worn, at close of day 534 

Weary life we live below 55 

We dwell this side of Jordan's 

stream 138 

We have no home but heaven 536 

We meet in joy, though we part in 

sorrow S5 

We need that Charmer, for our 

hearts are sore 720 

We're going home, we've had visions 

bright 710 

" We've no abiding city here" 113 

We speak of the realms of the 

blest 2S 

What a poor value do men set on 

heaven ! 731 



What sweetness on thine earth doth 

dwell 42 

What joy, while thus I view the day. 497 

What means yon blaze on high ? .... 296 

What no human eye hath seen 6 

What place can be for us no 

What shall we be, and whither shall 

we go 91 

What sinners value I resign 1 23 

What shall we sing on that ever- 
green shore 360 

What then ? Why then another pil- 
grim song 407 

What to that for which we're waiting 175 

When for eternal worlds I steer 643 

When God at first made man 396 

When I can read my title clear 419 

When Israel reached their homes at 

last 605 

When I gaze on the light of yon 

beautiful sky io3 

When I think what shall befall 236 

When now at last the hour is come.. 59S 

When shall my soul repose 445 

When shall I be at rest ? My trem- 
bling heart 373 

When the angels all are singing 355 

When the crickets chirp in the even- 
ing 5i5 

When the death-dews dim my eyes. 717 

When tempests toss, and billows roll 156 

When we reach a quiet dwelling 260 

When mysterious whispers are float- 
ing about 336 

When nightly through the sky 88 

When on my new-fledged wings I 

rise 711 

When shall the dawn of day 567 

When shall we meet again 577 • 

When we hear the music ringing.. . . 106 

When wild confusion wrecks the air 133 

When yonder glorious sky 493 

Whence came that multitude ? Ah ! 
they have marched through paths 

of flame 315 

Where is the land he saw in glorious 

vision 233 

Where is the unknown country ? . . . . 162 







y$4f 




742 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



PAGE 

Where dost thou lie, land of peace 520 

Where the faded flowers shall freshen 21 
While through this changing world 

we roam 608 

Who are those before God's throne.. 301 

Who are they the crown who win. . . 319 
Who is it clad in garments radiant 

white 328 

Who, Lord of Glory, will partake. . . 656 

While on the verge of life I stand. . . 487 

Will it no pleasure be 249 

Winter braining summer flaming.. . . 179 

World, farewell ! of thee I'm tired.. 602 
Wouldstthou inherit life with Christ 

on high ? 647 



PAGE 

Ye angels who stand round the 

throne 486 

Ye come to me in midnight dream. . 709 

Ye golden lamps of Heaven farewell 402 

Ye whoe'er for Christ are seeking. . . 343 

Yes ! bear them to their rest 310 

Yes, let me die ! am I of spirit birth 416 

Yes ! there is rest above ! Heaven's ' 

light is pouring 421 

Yes, there remaineth yet a rest 378 

Yet a little care and weeping 384 

Zion is our home 730 



THE END. 






-" 



\ 



LIBKAHY Uh UUNUHbbb 




013 997 529 7 



